


Dreams and Disasters

by lieano



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Established Relationship, Fates spoilers KINDA I GUESS IDK, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 09:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11460672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieano/pseuds/lieano
Summary: Inigo transferred schools to spend more time with his boyfriend. Unfortunately, Owain wasn't expecting him and is a pretty busy guy these days... Playing tabletop games. If Inigo wants to spend any time at all with him, he'll have to suck up his pride and learn how to play the very complicated role playing game, Dungeons and Dragons.





	1. Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> A multichapter fic written for Owainigo Week 2017. You can find all the details here: https://owainigoweek.tumblr.com/ Please participate it's gonna be so much fun!! :'D I've been working on this fic for about a week now. Every day this week I will upload a new chapter that will be inspired by the prompts for the ship week. (And there will of course be a bonus one in August for Inigo's birthday.) It's a coherent Multichapter fic tho, so buckle up. (I don't know how else to do ship weeks apparently lol)
> 
> They're playing 5th Edition, which is the only edition I have any experience with. I'm VERY new to DnD, but it's been consuming my life lately and now here it is bleeding over into my fanfiction lol.  
> For those of you that don't know anything about DnD: Hopefully you need little more than a very basic understanding of what it /is/ to follow along. Context clues will be your friend, but I tried not to get too nitty gritty into the details of how the game works. If you have any questions, please ask.  
> For those who do play: I'm SURE there are some errors. I reserve the right to bend the rules slightly on purpose for the sake of the story. But if I make a dumb error, feel free to let me know. I mght not change the fic, but at the very least you'll help me play the game better IRL lmfao
> 
> Anyway that's quite enough talking. PLEASE GO CHECK OUT OWAINIGO WEEK. PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT, LET ME KNOW HOW YOU FEEL. AND THANK YOU FOR READING. HERE GOES NOTHING.

“I think you need that more than I do right now, Inigo,” Peri said in a slightly somber tone. It was too different from her usual giddy, high pitched voice. The shift just made Inigo tear up a little bit more.

His open hand closed around the handkerchief and he shoved it back into his pocket, trying to sniffle away the beginnings of his emotions. “I just thought you might need some consoling after finding out I’m leaving so abruptly.” 

Peri brightened and practically squealed, “Oh no, I’ll be totally fine!” 

Inigo groaned. Peri was like a ball of cotton candy tangled up with nails. She seemed sweet and innocent until you got a real bite out of her. She was brutally honest and brutally… brutal. They had met in a painting class their freshman year. Inigo’s first impression of her was that she was bubbly and friendly and cute. His second impression, which he formed after seeing the horrifically bloody scene she had created, was much more accurate. Despite his fear, though, they ended up studying together and hanging out often after realizing they were neighbors in the dorms. She had been his anchor in his two and a half long years at Macarath University. 

Inigo sighed at his friend’s complete dismissal of his departure. He was transferring to a different school on the other end of the country and she was acting like he was going to the cafeteria for a snack. “I just hope the other girls on campus aren’t too heartbroken.” 

Peri giggled. “Of course they won’t be, they probably won’t even notice you left.” “Peri!” Inigo wailed, covering his face. “I thought you were my friend! And you betray me like this!” 

“I am your friend, silly. And as your friend, I’m happy for you. I don’t know why you’re so worried about the girls here. Isn’t the whole point of you transferring to be closer to your boytoy?” The spell of sarcastic banter between good friends was broken by these words. They brought an air of slight earnest to the atmosphere. Inigo didn’t remove his hands from his face though, now afraid of the heat he could feel under his palms. “Don’t call him that…” he moaned, trying to act nonchalant even though his heart was beating a bit faster. 

“Did you end up telling him you’re coming?” Peri asked innocently. 

“I uh,” Inigo finally lowered his hands and he was grateful that Peri didn’t immediately point out his embarrassed reddened skin. “I thought it would be fun to keep it a surprise after all.” 

Peri made an ‘o’ with her mouth and seemed thoughtful for a minute, then said, “But what if you walk in on him cheating on you?” 

The list of reasons Inigo needed to transfer was fairly long. On that list somewhere was ‘long exposure to Peri is not good for the heart’. This was a prime example of that. He sputtered and tried to regain his composure by actually summoning a mental image of the Number One reason he needed to transfer. 

Yellow hair that resembled a burst of light. A toothy, confident grin. A dorky, booming personality twinged with an infallible chivalry and loyalty. There were many words to describe his childhood best friend and boyfriend of almost three years, but if a gun was pointed to his head and he had to pick just one it would be ‘good’. He was a good soul, a good heart, and a good lover. So when Inigo’s heart stopped thumping against his chest so hard he thought it might escape, he breathed, “Owain would never… I don’t think he could even if he wanted to.” And Inigo knew he wasn't the type to want to. 

Peri just shrugged again and said with a malicious grin, “Well if you’re wrong call me. I”ll ensure that his end is long and painful.” The mental image of one of Peri’s more recent and more gruesome paintings came to mind and Inigo thought that even distance would not help him to be less scared of her. 

They shared a slightly (only slightly) more serious farewell, and then Inigo was off. He had a plane to catch and a surprise transfer to drop on his unsuspecting boyfriend. 

\--- 

Inigo and Owain _finally_ started dating when high school was almost over. But years before the inevitable confession, they spent a lot of free time ‘facetiously’ planning their future together. They made a (‘joke’) pact that if they were both single when they were 30 they would get married. They talked about where they’d live, and what their house would look like, and what they’d name their hypothetical adopted children. All the while they were unnecessarily harboring secret mutual feelings for each other but, hey, that was part of being a teenager. 

Unfortunately, because of their ridiculous trepidation to admit to these feelings (some nonsense like “What if he doesn't like me back?” or “What if it ruins our friendship?”) by the time they _did_ start dating, college was upon them. They had established dreams and goals already, and were being tugged to different corners of the country to pursue them. Owain wanted to go to a prestigious liberal arts university in Windmire that many of his family members were alumna of and study literature. Inigo wanted to go to the performing arts school in Macarath to follow in the footsteps of his mother and become a dancer. They decided that the mature thing to do would be not to become one of those couples that sacrifice their dreams to attend the same college. Their new romance would have to be long distance for four years and it would suck, but it would probably be over before they knew it. 

At least, that’s what they told themselves. Inigo realized, after two years, that they were wrong. College was dragging. He had seen his dream get chewed up and spit up by the high expectations he now faced. His drive faded. He lost confidence in himself and his ability to make a career out of dancing. Before leaving for summer break after his sophomore year, Inigo ambled to his adviser’s office with his tail between his legs and switched his major to communications, which he had already been studying as a minor. 

Inigo was officially depressed. He was isolated far from his family and his friends. He wasn’t pursuing his dreams or having fun in class anymore. And to top it all off, he never got to see Owain except during summer and winter break. He was distant, and when they did get to see each other he could tell that their relationship was suffering. He hated it. He missed Owain so much. 

At the beginning of his second semester Junior year, his advisor asked him a question that changed everything: “Why are you still here?” 

“Huh?” Inigo asked, sad and confused. 

“Why are you still attending a performing arts school? While we pass out the degree, our staff doesn’t specialize in the liberal arts. You could transfer to a new school, closer to home if you’re homesick.” 

“I could… transfer?” Inigo felt a ray of hope form in the middle of all his darkness. Forget moving closer to home, he could transfer to _Owain’s_ school! It was true what his adviser said. Why was he still at Macarath when he could continue studying communications, work toward getting a stable job, _and_ be closer to the boy he was in love with all at once? They started working at once to transfer his credits and get him enrolled at classes at Krakenberg U in Windmire. He would officially transfer a few weeks into classes and have some catching up to do, but it was a small price to pay for Inigo to spend more time with Owain. 

\--- 

Krakenberg’s campus was a bit larger than Macarath. It was 9 am and the place was swarming with students. Inigo clumsily found his way to his dorm and located an RA to help him get set up. When he was done it was 10:30 and Owain was in class. 

Owain still didn’t know Inigo was there, of course. But over text he had let slip the name of the building where most of his english classes were held, and with a map in hand Inigo was pretty confident he could find it to surprise Owain just as he was getting out. 

He didn’t want to stand awkwardly in front of a random building for half an hour, however, so he headed over to the college store, which was nearby, to peruse for an hour while he waited. 

Like most school gift shops, it had things like hoodies, office supplies, wall decorations, bumper stickers, and super fan paraphernalia. But it also had a case with different potted plants, ready to be cared for by students desperate for companionship in dorm rooms where they could not yet own a dog. 

Inigo paused as he was walking by the case, lingering over one plant in particular. Most of them were green, though there was one plant that had small purple blooms scattered across the top of it. They looked healthy and fresh and Inigo’s eyes widened. If he had paused to really think about it, purple and black were the Krakenberg University school colors, so it made a little bit of contextual sense to sell an African Violet among their other potted plants, but he had already firmly decided in a matter of seconds that it was a sign. He scooped the plant in his hands and dashed to the counter. 

The large round leaves bounced in Inigo’s hands as he pranced to the English building, arriving five minutes before class was dismissed. There were butterflies in his stomach and flowers in his hands and he couldn’t stop beaming. This was it. This was the beginning of the rest of his college career beside Owain. 

A steady stream of students started to exit the four story old-fashioned building rather suddenly and without warning. They were all jabbering or listening to music to power walk to their next class, no one was paying attention to Inigo. He fidgeted with the base of the plant. He couldn’t really explain his nerves. He had just seen Owain a couple of weeks ago before they both left from winter break. Maybe it was because of the permanency, or the flowers… Or Peri’s cautions weighing in the back of his mind. 

All of the conspiratorial worrying vanished when Owain finally stepped out the door. His default face was to smile, and he was, looking at a piece of paper absently, probably deeply in thought about a paper or assignment he had just been given. The sun struck his yellow hair and he lit up, almost radiated in Inigo’s perspective. 

“Surprise!” Inigo shouted, completely at a lack for original words. Owain hadn’t even seen him yet, so he looked up with several other students who regarded Inigo quizzically, trying to decide who this was directed at while Owain processed the situation. 

It dawned on him like a sunrise. Slow, but warm and bright. His confusion symptoms morphed into excited. The change was subtle, as the two emotions have a common ancestor, but noticeable. His eyes were wide, but crinkled at the edge and his slightly agape mouth stretched into an obtusely agape grin. His arms, held up in reflexive defense, stayed up but swung out as he started to run forward. All of Inigo’s former fears and doubts were dashed away when Owain’s body crashed into his own and they hugged. He barely managed to lift the plant up and out of the way in time. 

They hugged tightly, as they so often did when they went long periods of time without seeing each other. Then Owain pulled back, cupped Inigo’s face in his palms (the paper he had been looking at early crinkled beyond help in between his fingers), and kissed him. Right in front of all his other classmates. Gentle, but passionate. 

They relished in the feeling of each other for a moment before Owain pulled away, breathless and smiley, and finally asked, “What stars aligned in my favor that you are standing here right now? How did you get out of class and travel here and- Oh, wait, I have to text my friends and tell them I won’t be at lunch. We’re going to go get coffee right?” 

He was rattling off short thoughts and Inigo noticed his hands were shaking a little and his breathing had not slowed down. The surprise had worked. And he was so overjoyed, he was literally vibrating with emotion. And Inigo, in turn, felt warm in places where he had been too icy lately, just at the mere act of standing within Owain’s orbital pull. His heart wasn’t just pounding, it was singing. He clutched the plant in the same way Owain clutched his phone as he texted, desperate for an anchor as he realized: this was his new life. He was going to get to feel this warmth every day for the rest of his college career. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice cracking where he didn’t expect it to. “Coffee sounds good. I need to tell you something.” He tacked on a smile so that Owain knew not to be afraid. And he must have read the message loud and clear, because he smiled back, took Inigo’s hand, and led him across campus to a little cafe. 

The campus cafe was, naturally, crowded. Students who were lucky enough to just be starting their mornings were slugging through their hangovers and reluctance to go to class. Those who had been up since 8 were already picking up health conscious lunches. But the line moved surprisingly quickly, almost as if the baristas were college students serving other college students and knew they were grumpy and in a hurry. Inigo and Owain got their drinks and then ducked out of the building to a little picnic table outside where they could breathe. It was chilly, but the drink was warm in Inigo’s hand and the smell of espresso was filling him with the life he had lost from his early morning traveling. Across the table, Owain must have been suffering from a completely different side effect of caffeine because he was still vibrating. The purple flowered plant sat between them on the table, soaking up the rays of the sun and looking content as a plant could. 

“Are you in town for the rest of the week? Or just today? Should I skip my classes?” He looked more than willing to. 

“Owain, no,” Inigo chuckled. He couldn’t stop smiling. Neither of them could. “Don’t skip your classes. We’re going to have plenty of time to hang out. Actually, we’ll have the rest of the semester.” Inigo sat up, proud of his second surprise even more than his first, and confident Owain could handle it. “I transferred schools. I’m a student of Krakenberg University starting tomorrow.” 

Owain’s jaw closed a half an inch, his head cocked slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed. “Transferred? Here? You don’t go to Macarath anymore?” 

Inigo shook his head, trying to ignore the pool of dread that was swarming within him at this reaction and keep the smile plastered firmly on his own expression. “My adviser pointed out that I could get a communications degree pretty much anywhere. So I transferred. I wanted to be closer to you.” 

Owain smiled. Though it was softer than his previous ones, it was still genuine. He was the most genuine person Inigo knew. “This is… Wondrous news! I can’t believe I am about to admit this but… I don’t know what to say.” 

Inigo chuckled. “Sorry I didn’t warn you ahead of time. I’m sure you already have a study group or something this week. You have a life here and I’m new and we’ll have to set out boundaries. But I’m just excited at the idea of getting to see you more often.” 

Then Inigo watched as Owain’s expression did something strange. It phased through several different emotions, from realization, to horror, to anxiety. For Inigo, reading Owain was like reading a book assigned to second graders. Way too easy. And his emotions mirrored Owain’s beat for beat. His leg started to bounce. Why was Owain suddenly so nervous? Did he just remember something? 

“Of course. This is amazing! I’ll be able to find the time…” 

“You’re busy tonight, right?” Inigo asked, eager to find out which route Owain’s train of thought had taken. “It’s fine if you are, you weren’t expecting me.” 

“Yes, well, I can cancel it if-” 

“No, don’t, really. What about tomorrow?” 

“Uh, yes. Then too.” 

“And Wednesday?” 

“Study group. And I have plans friday too. I am truly sorry Inigo, I didn’t realize… I made a lot of commitments at the beginning of the year. I’ve just been very busy lately.” 

Inigo was beginning to shake a little more. Owain had specified study hall, but not what his other appointments were. And he didn’t typically see himself as the jealous type but… What could he possibly be doing? It wasn't as if Owain had a ton of friends. And Inigo meant that with love, but it was true. He was the first to admit that his boyfriend was a weirdo (because Owain would never admit he, himself, was less than awesome). Owain wasn't exactly popular. He only had two friends that he ever spoke about. And at least one of them was a huge bookish nerd. They couldn’t possibly be going out partying every night. So what on earth could be eating up all his time? 

_“What if you walk in on him cheating on you? I’ll ensure that his end is long and painful.”_ Inigo lifted his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with it on the table as Peri’s words rang loud and clear in his head. It just couldn’t be true. Not Owain. 

All at once, Owain lit up and started smacking the table in jubilation. He was an awful lot like a human firecracker sometimes and Inigo felt his spine partially leap out of his body. “Oh! How foolish of me! You should come along tonight! You’ll have fun! I’ll text Leo, I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

Inigo perked up and stopped fiddling with the phone. He knew of Leo. Leo was the harmless bookish nerd. “I don’t want to impose,” he lied weakly. He did very much want to impose. A mixture of curiosity, mild anxiety and desire to not let Owain out of his sight now that he had him boiled together in his gut. 

There was a ding from Owain’s phone. He read it very quickly and then grinned. “You won’t be imposing. In fact…” Owain clutched a fist right in front of his face, closed his eyes and sat up a little straighter. “Our group of brave adventurers would be humbled if you joined us on our noble quest to rid the land of evil once and for all. You should play with us.” 

Inigo blinked, mostly impervious to Owain’s bouts of dramatics at this point, but still a little lost without context. “Play what?” 

His eyes opened and he smiled and for a moment, it was so pure. So innocent. So excited. Inigo’s heart melted until Owain opened his mouth and said, “Dungeons and Dragons!” 

_Wait…_

“My group meets usually two or three times a week.” _Oh no…_ “I can help you make a character, don’t fret. But if you play with us, we’ll get to spend a _ton_ of time together!” _Oh my god this is really happening…_ “Plus, it’s really fun! You might like it. A lot like the epic, magical games we used to play when we were little.” 

Now, Inigo knew that his boyfriend was a nerd. He’d grown up with Owain after all. But this was… A whole new level of nerdom that he was not ready for. And as Owain carried on explaining the game and his current quest, it sounded like something he had been involved with for a while. How it never came up when they talked on the phone was a mystery to Inigo. And now, all of a sudden, he was being dragged in? On the list of hobbies Inigo could see himself taking up, Dungeons and Dragons was _very_ close to the bottom. 

At the same time, a little voice in the back of his mind reminded him, you transferred to this school to spend more time with Owain. And this would be a really easy way to do so. How hard can a little board game be?... That’s what Dungeons and Dragons was, right? Just a super nerdy board game? He used to be a pro at Monopoly when he was a teenager, this shouldn’t be too hard. 

\--- 

Owain skipped his classes for the rest of the day after all. But not because his time with Inigo was short. They would, in fact, be spending a lot of time together in the upcoming months, it seemed. No, Owain skipped classes because, apparently, building a character for a DnD (that was shorthand for Dungeons and Dragons, Inigo learned) was a big fucking ordeal. And as a complete newbie, he couldn’t be trusted to do it on his own. Clearly this wasn’t a “I call being the scotty dog!” situation. 

“Before we get into the numbers and stats,” Owain began in an authoritative tone that told Inigo he was going to be taking this way too seriously. “We’ll just figure out what kind of character you want to play. We’ll start with race.” 

Inigo was sitting at the desk in Owain’s room with a pencil and a piece of paper like he was about to take notes for a class. The potted plant sat next to him, supporting him emotionally through this. He hadn’t officially ‘given’ it to Owain yet. Honestly he wasn’t sure how to go about fitting in “Hey, I bought you these flowers!” with all this game talk. 

Owain leaned right over the plant to reach for a little shelf over the desk and slammed a heavy book on the table dramatically right in front of Inigo. It made him jump and he subtly checked that the plant hadn’t been hurt. Owain hadn’t even taken notice of it. He was more focused on the book, gazing at it like it was his child. 

It was a huge glossy hardback. There was a dramatic illustration of a battle on the cover. A large, bearded, red-eyed humanoid with a skull helmet was reaching for a person the size of its hand. A woman holding a spear in one hand while a blue light emanated from her other. Inigo felt embarrassment just looking at it. Then he felt intimidation as Owain flipped it open and started shuffling through the very many, _very_ text heavy pages it contained. 

“There are nine races in the main DnD rules for you to chose from. You can be pretty much whoever you want to be. Search your soul and find the race that best suits who you are and delve into their innate and unique abilities!” 

Inigo flipped through the pages with Owain and scoffed more than once. (“Why is lawn gnome and option?” “So is this thing supposed to be like a female Hellboy? Hellgirl?” “Why is it called a halfling when the premise of this whole thing is obviously just a Lord of the Ring rip off? They’re lying to themselves.”) But it was one heckle in particular that made Owain kind of sag and, as a result, made Inigo start to feel bad for his attitude. 

“This is like a magic fantasy game right? Why would they even make human an option? Does anyone even pick human when you have all these other options?” 

“My character is a human…” Owain said in a voice that was just a register below his normal boom. 

Inigo wiped the stupid smirk he wore off of his face and glanced up at Owain. Was he genuinely hurt? “Oh. Sorry. I’m sure he’s cool.” 

“Of course he is,” Owain said, then he stood up straight and struck one of his dramatic poses, reaching out an open palm and flexing his fingers as if a burst of flame would appear between them. Inigo immediately felt foolish for taking pity on his pride. “He is a powerful sorcerer, feared and admired throughout the land. Odin Dark! And though he is but a human, he was born with an ache in his veins and power far above that of other mortals.” After the display, which Inigo sat through patiently as he had learned to do over the years, Owain lowered his hand slightly and said, a little more modestly. “He’s very strong, I worked hard on him and I’m very proud.” 

“I can tell,” Inigo said, trying not to let his trepidation sneak into his tone. “Though for you, maybe playing a human is a stretch of the imagination. In my case I’ll just be a… hmm… an elf? That’s like the Orlando Bloom kind, right? Not the Santa's helpers kind?” 

Owain chuckled and flipped to the elf page. “It’s the Orlando Bloom kind.” 

“Okay. Good. Then that one.” 

If Inigo thought his list of races to choose from was unnecessarily long, he was ill-prepared for the class list. There were twelve classes, and so many of them were exactly alike. And every single one was so complicated. Inigo stared at the lists of weapons, stats, attributes, and spells until his eyes were crossing. Thankfully Owain took pity on him. “Inigo, can I make a suggestion?” 

“Please,” Inigo sighed, his headache mounting as he re-read the word ‘spell-slot’ for the 10th time, still not understanding what meaning it was trying to convey. 

“We have a magic user, a long ranged fighter and a healer in our party. We don’t really have someone that specializes in close combat. How do you feel about being the sword and shield? 

“Is it… complicated?” 

“Not as complicated as spells,” Owain said. 

“Sounds fantastic.” 

“Okay, fantastic, you're a fighter. An elf fighter.” And then Owain smiled and Inigo’s headache subsided a little. 

That could have been the end of it and Inigo would have been none the wiser. But choosing a race and class were only the tip of the iceberg. As promised there were numbers and stats that had to be calculated. And as if none of this was already WAY more complicated than it needed to be, he had to come up with a backstory for this imaginary person. 

“I can write it for you if you want,” Owain said, a little too eagerly. Inigo wasn’t going to say no, of course. Not only was Owain the english guy with an actual history in writing in the fantasy genre, but Inigo didn’t want to do it at all in the first place. “You just have to pick out a background really quick so I have something to go off of.” 

“A background?” Inigo mumbled (he was mostly mumbling at this point), as Owain flipped to the appropriate page. 

“I swear on my noble bloodline, it is not as complicated as race and class. You’ll just get some small benefits to your stats that I will worry about. Now, you’re a fighter, so might I suggest the soldier background? Or maybe even the sailor! Swashbuckling adventures on the high seas!” 

Owain went on in this manner for a handful of the background choices that he highlighted, but Inigo tuned him out partially. Something caught his eye and he gripped the page slightly. 

“Entertainer,” he murmured in the middle of one of Owain’s dramatics, and his low tone sucked the air and other noise out of the room. He skimmed the description and then looked up at Owain with the most decisive expression he had worn since this whole ordeal began. “Can I be this one?” 

Owain blinked and looked at the page. He took a second to process it, then smiled softly at Inigo and simply said, “Of course.” And that was the end of that. 

At this point, all that was left was for Owain to write him a backstory. Inigo’s headache had persisted though, and he was feeling overwhelmed and tired. He stood up wearily. 

“What time is this game tonight?” he asked weakly, trying his best to mask his discomfort and surely failing. 

Owain looked at the clock on the wall. “Not until 7. We have a few hours.” 

“Thank god,” Inigo murmured and he stood up. “I think I need a nap. I’m still exhausted from traveling.” 

Owain looked a little guilty at this suggestion, but he grabbed one of Inigo’s wrists just as he was about to pull away, gestured to the lofted bed above his desk and said, “You can sleep here if you want. I’ll turn the lights of and be quiet. Promise.” 

Inigo broke out of his sleepy spell for a moment to observe Owain’s body language. He was anxious about something. And Inigo grinned, eager to seize this opportunity to tease him. “Worried that if I leave you’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream?” 

Owain blushed. But he didn’t deny it. “I… Just can’t believe that you’re here. I’m so excited to share my world with you.” 

Inigo hoped that Owain was talking about college at large and not just this game. But he was too tired to angst over anything any longer. He sort of crumbled into Owain’s arms, taking advantage of the situation. The hours (oh god it had been multiple hadn’t it) they had spent talking about a complicated fantasy rpg melted into the back of his memories. Once again, he was just here in his boyfriend’s warmth. He pulled out of the hug only slightly so that they could kiss, deeper and slower than they had outside the english building. Their bodies started to rock together with the rhythm of their lips and tongues. 

Inigo pulled away after a moment to yawn and Owain chuckled. He kissed the tip of Inigo’s nose and said, “Come on.” 

He was led to a ladder and a moment later his face hit a pillow that smelled like Owain. If Owain stayed up writing, he didn’t make a noise, and Inigo slipped into a much-needed deep sleep. 

\--- 

Inigo had gone to bed concerned, but woken up grumpy and frustrated. He nursed a large cup of coffee as Owain dragged him across town to where they’d be paying this dumb game. Coffee had gotten him through mild depression, surely it could step up and get him through whatever brand of embarrassment he was about to experience with this. 

Maybe if circumstances were different, he wouldn’t be so bitter about this situation. Maybe if he had always gone to Krakenberg University with Owain and they had formed a college routine together from the beginning, he would be okay to send his boyfriend off into absolute nerdom. But that wasn’t the case. They had been separated for so long and Inigo was aching and their sudden proximity was a _big deal_ to him. He didn’t want to intrude on Owain’s life, but at the same time, the guy could act a _little_ more excited. But no, instead, ever since he heard the good news he hadn’t shut up about this game. He hadn’t even paused to ask Inigo, _“Hey, is there a reason you’re carrying around potted flowers?”_

Leo’s apartment was bigger than any of the dorm rooms on campus. Inigo had never met Leo, just heard Owain talk about him. He knew he read a lot of books and always did his homework on time, but that was about all Owain had told him. Clearly, he’d forgotten to mention that Leo was _rich_. It was more like a high end condo than it was an apartment. Completely furnished and impeccably clean and fancy. Inigo walked into the empty sitting room and was afraid to touch anything. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” Leo asked as they passed by a pretty large open kitchen. 

Inigo held up his coffee briefly then quickly brought it to his chest again. “I’m fine,” he croaked, hoping it didn’t sound as miserable as he felt. 

Leo still went into the kitchen and Owain paused to wait for him to get some water from his purifier on the tap, so Inigo waited too. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Inigo,” Leo said as he was turning around, glass in hand, to lean on the counter. His voice was smooth and calm. He seemed way too cool to be Owain’s friend. “Niles and I actually had a bet going on whether you were real or not. Now I owe him, which is never a good thing.” 

A booming laughter filled the space and if Inigo were a stranger to Owain, he would have flinched. As it stood, he was too accustomed (and tired). “He pulled one over on you, friend! He has met Inigo over Skype.” 

Niles was Owain’s roommate. ‘Met’ was a strong word, but Inigo had indeed seen him piddling around in the background while he talked to Owain over video and he knew that Niles had seen him. Inigo watched as the mild amusement slipped right off Leo’s face into disdain. 

A very feminine, loud giggle echoed their way from down the hall. Inigo thought Leo couldn’t look anymore sour in that moment and was proven wrong when his brows knotted together just a little tighter. 

“If he’s teaching my sister inappropriate things on top of this, I’ll make him sorry he ever set foot into my home.” He stomped away in the direction of the giggle and Owain followed after him, looking completely undisturbed, so Inigo followed too. 

There was no bed in the extra bedroom they entered. It was small and there was just one closet and door out. Shelves lined the walls, floor to ceiling, filled with books and board games. There was a desk at one of the room, facing away from the wall with open books and papers scattered across it. In the middle of the room, right in front of this desk, was a long table. The set up would have resembled a professional conference room if it wasn’t for all of the geeky paraphernalia along the walls. 

There were two people already sitting down next to each other at one end of the table. Niles, dark skin and white hair and large biceps, turned his sly grin on Inigo immediately like he had been waiting for this moment for hours. The girl was young. She looked too young, in fact, to be hanging out with a bunch of college boys. She had huge blonde pigtails with purple highlights, wide eyes, and wore a floral printed dress. Despite the fact that there were some elements of Leo in her features (they had the same nose and round face) she looked completely out of her element here, like the boys had ripped from the pages of a story book and were holding her hostage. 

When they entered the room, she was laughing in Niles’ general direction. Her smile carried with her as she turned to look at them and she filled in the space left behind by her giggle with a little gasp. “A new friend!” she squealed, bouncing out of her chair and across the room. 

“Elise, this is my dear companion who just transferred to Krakenberg, Inigo,” Owain introduced with a little flair in his wrist as he gestured toward Inigo. 

Elise grabbed one of Inigo’s hands and shook it eagerly, bouncing him a little in his place. She was cute, not really his type (or the type he usually gave attention to), but just having a friendly female around poured a little bit of life into him. “Are you gonna play with us?” 

“I think so?” Inigo murmured. “We made a character. I’ve never played before, though.” 

She giggled. “That’s okay, I’m kinda new too. I’m a freshman and really just joined this because I wanted to spend more time with my brother. Outside of class and DnD, he literally never leaves his room. And even this is just down the hall!” Elise took a brief moment to pointedly look at Leo over her shoulder as he pulled out some books and journals at the desk facing them. Inigo felt a pull of sympathy in that moment and a rush of relief. He had a comrade, someone in the same circumstance as him. When she turned back and smiled at him, Inigo finally pulled out a smile to give her in return. “I’ve only been playing for a few months. It’s pretty hard to understand at first, but you’ll do okay. And at the very least, I’m a healer so I won’t let you die!” 

“Elise plays a noble halfling cleric,” Owain announced with a little too much excitement. “She keeps us in top fighting condition through all of our battles. Surely the team would have perished by now if not for her reliable magic!” 

Elise blushed. “I just try to do my best for the team. You guys are a little reckless, though, I don’t know how you managed before me.” 

“We didn’t really,” interrupted Niles’ smooth voice from where he still sat at the table. “I think I sacrificed like three characters trying to keep Owain’s precious sorcerer alive before you came along. The ranger I have right now has been alive so long, he probably doesn’t even know what to do with himself.” 

“The lesson I’ve been trying to teach is that not every situation is a ‘rush-in’ situation,” Leo said as he unfolded a ten inch tall screen that wrapped around the edge of the desk and had a cool illustrated mural of a dragon battle on the outward facing side. “It never really stuck.” 

“Odin Dark is a hero and hero's never shy away from challenges!” Owain said as he and Elise moved to the table. Inigo felt compelled to follow and took an empty seat next to Owain as he started to unload a laptop, some pieces of paper, a couple of sets of dice, and the handbook from his bag. “I am always merely trying to stay in character.” 

“And no one does it better than you,” Leo grumbled. “Now can we get started? I have an essay to write tonight so I’d like to get through this as fast as possible. Inigo, we’re all pleased to finally meet you. I’m sorry the pleasantries have been a little rushed. Do you know how to play the game?” 

“Well, I got a quick crash course today. How hard can it be?” 

Leo’s arched eyebrow indicated that it might be a little harder than it sounds. As far as Inigo understood it, Dungeons and Dragons was low maintenance game. There wasn’t a board, there weren’t any pieces. Just some (weird) dice and imagination. And this character sheet with a lot of numbers that Inigo didn’t understand, but Owain had promised to help him with if he had any questions. He wasn’t confident by any means that this would go well, but it was also _just a game_. So he tried not to let Leo’s visible skepticism get to him. He had enough on his emotional plate as it was. 

“Why don’t you tell us a little bit about your character?” Leo asked. 

“Uh, well, he’s a… an elf? Yeah. And he has a sword and a shield, which I guess means he’s strong. Uh I think the class was called a fighter? He’s probably super buff and handsome and gets the attention of all ladies with his award winning smile.” 

Leo was writing something down behind his screen. He hardly looked like he was paying attention, which was a little embarrassing. Though Inigo couldn’t decide if it was more or less embarrassing than Elise and Niles who, he could see out of his peripheral vision, were both raptly listening to him and grinning slightly. 

“Mhm, and what’s his name?” 

“Hm? Name?” 

“Yes.” 

Inigo looked down at the sheet Owain had given him. He had forgotten a name. Was he supposed to come with one? Did he have to come up with one right now on the fly? Was ‘Inigo’ okay, or could he just name the guy something like ‘Bob’ or ‘Jerry’, or was that weird for an elf? 

In the middle of his turmoil, he heard a small cough and looked up at Owain who was grinning slightly. Of course, he’d already come with a name. He had written the whole backstory and names were _kind of_ Owain’s thing. He pointed to the top of Inigo’s sheet proudly. 

“Laslow of the-” Inigo cleared his throat. “Laslow.” He looked up at Leo and could practically smell Owain pouting next to him. 

“Good. Let’s begin. When we left off, our party was in the middle of a chase.” 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

Laslow was tending to a patch of flowers. He didn’t know what the flowers were called, but they were beautiful. The stems grew up and the bulbs dipped down, but bloomed full and bright. They had white petals with one or two thin, deep purple lines and yellow spots toward the middle. The bottom three petals fanned outwards, but the top ones were short and curled, similar to a snapdragon. Laslow poured a large watering can over the small patch and admired how the residual droplets caught the bright sun and made them glow. 

These weren’t Laslow’s personal flowers. He had been hired to watch over the cabin of a wizard who was out traveling for a little while. He’d been here about a week so far. There were some valuable potions and magicks inside. And this little garden. He had never considered himself a gardener, but he found it therapeutic. 

It was another peaceful day at this forest-bordering cabin. Laslow fed the plants and thought about his plans for the day. This was by far the most relaxing job he had ever been hired to do. Perhaps today he would take just a couple of flowers, not enough to be missed, and go into town to socialize. He started to hum with pleasure at the thought of these delicate white petals nestled behind a fair maiden’s ear. 

His pleasant daydreams were interrupted by a loud roar and an unnatural gust of wind. He tilted his chin up just in time to watch the sun get blocked by a large, red, leathery wing. Laslow’s jaw fell open and the world slowed down as his eyes followed the wing up to the rest of the beast. Plump, red scaled body, long neck and tail, large claws, thick twisted horns, a snout that leaked smoke from its nostrils. A dragon. 

There was a distant shout from the direction the dragon had flown, though Laslow couldn’t discern exactly what was being said. The dragon landed next to his garden and let out a thunderous roar. Laslow dropped the watering can before it was finished and ran to the door of his cabin, where his sword and shield were resting. 

There was another indistinguishable yell from somewhere else in the near distance and then a ferocious blast of lightning mowed right through the dragon. It howled in pain and reeled backwards. When it came back down, one hooked claw took out a flower and curled into the soil beneath it. Laslow sneered. 

A group of three people appeared at the gate of the cabin’s lawn. They were all mildly out of breath, but stood strong and brandished their weapons to show their readiness for battle. A horned tiefling, with dark brown skin, white hair and an eyepatch, loaded a bolt into a crossbow and launched it at the dragon. It whizzed right past the creature’s head. A dense cloud of smoke plumed out the dragon’s nose. 

A second person in the group, a tiny girl with long blonde pigtails and a short, poofy black and pink dress under a silver breastplate, moved her hand axe to the right hand and laid her left on the hip of the third member of their party. Her hand glowed and she muttered a word that Laslow couldn’t hear, but looked on her lips similar to ‘fire’. 

The third member of the party glowed red, and a smirk stretched across his face. He was a human, blonde, dressed in a cape and nice black and gilded robes. There were some bronze scales on his face, around his eyes and across his forehead. He glowed a faint red for a moment as the halfling's spell took effect. Then he pointed one steady finger at the dragon and said, no, shouted, “YOUR FLAME CANNOT PIERCE THIS RADIANT GIFT, BUT TRY AS YOU MIGHT YOU MISERABLE LIZARD!” 

The dragon coiled its long neck and unhinged its jaw. Laslow barely got his shield up to crouch behind it before the whole area was bathed in fire. 

The flames licked Laslow’s shield and he could feel the heat on his hands. One boot that didn’t quite get covered caught fire when the whole ordeal was done. He stomped it out and then stood up. When he looked out beyond his shield, horror fell into the pit of his stomach. The flowers. They were all gone, as if they had never been there, replaced by a flat lump of blackened earth. 

The adventurers still looked mostly hearty. The infernal tiefling was fire resistant by nature and the human had been imbued with some sort of spell that protected him. Though their little halfling friend was charred and weak on her feet. Flowers _and_ a girl hurt before his eyes in a battle he did not ask to be brought to his front door? Oh hell no. 

Laslow dropped his shield at his feet and grabbed his longsword with two hands. He let out a fierce cry and charged the dragon, which was only a few feet away, plunging the blade into its soft chest. If the beast or the other adventurers hadn’t noticed him yet, they certainly did now. He ripped his sword up the length of the dragon’s neck above him and then spun around and hacked downwards just as it was starting to tumble, taking off its head in one clean swoop. Both head and body fell to the earth with wet thumps, dead. 

It must have been weakened to the point of breaking already, Laslow thought absently as he panted and tried to clear his mind. He wiped sweat from his brow and looked up when the sound of approaching footsteps entered his space. The human and halfling were looking at him with different shades of wonder. The tiefling had held back and was scrutinizing him with one good eye as he put up his crossbow. 

“Salutations, great warrior,” the human said with a booming flair. “That was some admirable swordsmanship you just displayed!” 

“Sorry about the trouble,” the halfling said in a squeaky voice. Laslow glanced forlornly at the burnt patch of earth where the flowers had been. “I hope you didn’t lose anything valuable in that house.” 

“The house?” he repeated, then the sense of dread came back in full force. He whirled around and, sure enough, the whole house was gone. The tip of Laslow’s sword dipped toward the earth as one hand released it to cover his face. “Oh gods,” he murmured. “The wizard is gonna kill me.” 

“Wizard?” the halfling parroted. 

“This old guy, he hired me to house sit,” Laslow murmured. “I think there was a lot of powerful stuff he owned in there. And the flowers,” he looked again at the ground. “He was very particular about keeping the flowers alive.” 

The halfling, at least, seemed bothered by this news. But the human didn’t. He maintained a concrete grin and pounded one sturdy hand on Laslow’s shoulder in encouragement. “Cheer up, friend. By the time your benefactor returns we will be long gone. What do you say to joining our party?” 

Laslow looked at this human. He looked into his gemstone-like green eyes, drank in his bright expression, sunshine colored hair and bronze scales. And thought about the flowers that had been so white and plump with life yet delicate and defenseless. His blood boiled. 

Laslow knocked the hand away and said, “No thank you, I don’t associate with people who have no regard to life.” He marched over to his shield and collected what belongings still remained outside. 

( _“Inigo, Laslow has to join our party, that’s the whole point of this encounter,” Owain said in a suspiciously gentle voice from beside Inigo at the game table._

_Inigo was mad. He couldn’t describe it. The game was fake. But he was still mad on behalf of Laslow and the lost flowers. In some weird, childish way, he sympathized. “I just don’t think he would right now? He’s pretty upset.”_

_“That’s a completely valid character choice, very good. I admire that,” Leo agreed. He looked at Owain, “He can play his character however he wants. Now let’s keep going.”_ ) 

Laslow marched over to the fence that still stood around the perimeter of the burnt property. It was made of metal and hadn’t caught fire like the log cabin or many of the other lawn features. He sat down and leaned against it, ignoring the heat on his back from the fresh fire attack. 

The human seemed at a loss of words for a second and fidgeted in one place before rushing over to Laslow while he got comfortable. “I am Odin Dark, a powerful dragon-descended sorcerer traveling the world to help the helpless and liberate the world from evil!” He struck a dramatic pose. Laslow ignored him as he went on. “The noble halfling is Princess Elise, our steadfast cleric! All in our party are safer and stronger with her nearby. And the fiendish tiefling is Niles the Stargazer, a ranger with-” 

“Niles, is fine,” the tiefling said, picking his nails in boredom. “Just Niles.” 

“-with sharp shooter precision. He never misses a foe with his agile arrows!” 

“Oh really?” Laslow asked, glancing up the human, Odin, finally. “Because I’m pretty sure I watched an arrow whiz off into the horizon right past the dragon’s head.” 

“Hey, we all have rough days,” Niles said, shrugging. “Sometimes people get a shit night sleep because the sorcerer who is supposed to be on watch stays up with a light that’s a hint too bright to accommodate his weak human eyes, and mumbles made up names of spells outloud to himself as he writes them down in a notebook.” 

Laslow glared up at Odin. “Yeah, I think I’ll maintain my pass on the offer to join your group. Thanks though. I’m just going to sit here and wait for the wizard to return and smite me.” 

“What about the regard to life?” Elise, the halfling, interjected. She was soft. Laslow de-bristled a little at the sounds of her voice. Then bristled again a second later when Odin spoke. 

“Excellent point! You held it against us as if it was something that you valued, yet do you have no regard for your own life?” 

Laslow didn’t know how to answer that at first. Of course he had a regard for his own life. But he was also a lawful man, and leaving his post seemed… wrong. Besides it wasn’t his own life he was referring to, but that of others. He glanced at the burnt flower patch. It was _just_ a flower patch but… He felt heartbroken about it. “I was talking about the flowers,” he admitted out loud, despite himself. 

Odin looked at the barren land, processed what was being said, and then returned a raised eyebrow to Laslow. “You’re upset about some burnt flowers? We slayed a dangerous, evil dragon. If all we lost were some measly flowers, we should be celebrating.” 

( _Of course he would say that._ ) 

“Of course you would say that,” Laslow grumbled. He stood up from his seat at the post, deciding that he wasn’t going to stick around here any longer if this guy was, and walked into the nearby forest. 

He didn’t go very far, but he wasn’t followed which was a relief. There was a pond just a few feet from the cabin and Laslow settled against a tree near it. After a few hours of no disturbance, he let the exhaustion from his anger take over and dozed off. 

\--- 

It was barely dusk when Laslow woke up. His shoulders and hips were cramping from the uncomfortable position he’d slept in. He hadn’t meant to actually rest all night, but apparently the stress from the last few hours of his previous day was too much for his body to wake up from. 

He sat up from the slumped over pile he had fall into and rubbed his eyes. The sun was just starting to rise, filtering through the trees in a soft golden light. The grass around him was damp with dew. And there was a figure at the pond just a few feet from him. 

Odin Dark was washing something in the shallow bank. He had his back turned on Laslow, but his shock of blonde hair was unmistakable. His body twitched slightly every so often with movement. Whatever he was doing, he was very focused on it, and he didn’t turn around when Laslow stood and approached. 

“I know that this won’t make up for the loss,” his started to speak as Laslow got closer, as if he was expecting this. “I asked Princess Elise for magical assistance to reverse some of the damage. But there will be no bringing them back to life.” 

Laslow’s curiosity was brimming, about to overflow. He peeked over Odin’s shoulder and felt his heart leap a little with surprise. A little flower. White petals with purple and yellow markings. Small, delicate, but alive. 

“I found them behind a post in the fence,” Odin said softly, and Laslow noticed the two others in his lap. “They survived the fire, but were still severed from their roots. I am truly sorry. They must have made a lovely patch.” 

Laslow sat next to the water and looked at the flower in Odin’s hands. He smiled softly. “They were. You know, flowers have their own language. They help us communicate with each other.” 

“Their own language?” Odin repeated. He looked down at the flower, then back up at Laslow. He reached over in a quick motion that Laslow was too slow to dodge or deflect, and tucked what was left of the flower’s stalk behind his ear. Then he sat back and smiled. “You must keep it close to your ear then, so you can hear when it whispers.” 

Laslow felt his face heat up. He gently felt the flower by his ear and then leaned over the edge of the pond to see his reflection. Not as pretty as it would be on a maiden, certainly. But he felt better with its white petals close to him. At least for now. He cleared his throat and turned back to Odin. “Thank you,” he said. “This does… Mean something.” 

There was a beat of silence and then Odin said, “Please reconsider waiting here for your demise. We could really use someone with your… heart. On our team. We are perhaps a little too chaotic sometimes. It would be nice to have someone around to tell us when we’ve gone too far.” 

Laslow sighed. “Okay, I’ll join your party,” he said and then through Odin’s rising excitement asked, “Where are we going?” 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

Inigo looked up from his character sheet a caught Owain looking at him. Elise and Niles had stolen Leo’s attention as they squabbled over the ethics of looted goods. (Something about Niles finding a trap door under all of the charred debris of the wizard’s cabin with a really good perception check.) They were able to share a moment. Not a long one, but a slightly private one. 

Owain grabbed Inigo’s hand under the desk and leaned in to whisper, “I forgot to thank you for the flowers earlier. You caught me by surprise today. This was the only thing I could think of to pay you back. I missed you.” 

Inigo smiled, despite himself. He was still a little irritated, still a lot confused, but Owain’s words melted the ice in his chest a little more. “You’re so cheesy,” he said before pecking Owain on his temple, hopefully under the radar of the others in the room. No one made a move to indicate they had seen it. 

Inigo still wasn’t sure what to make of this dungeons and dragons business. He didn’t know how he was going to fit himself into Owain’s routine or if he would end up making a fool of himself soon enough. What he did know, and what he chose to focus on, was that he was happy to be sitting in that chair in that moment with dice in front of him and his boyfriend’s hand in his.


	2. Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very DnD-verse heavy chapter. So get ready for some HIGH FANTASY ADVENTURE.
> 
> As always please check out Owainigoweek.tumblr.com there's some REAL GOOD STUFF BEING MADE. PLEASE GIVE EVERYONE NICE COMMENTS AND REBLOGS.

There was something wrong with this village. Anyone just passing through could tell that. The smell of decay and sewage could be picked up miles before even reaching the border and once inside, it consumed. The smell was the worst, but even without it the villagers ambled along as their own omens, covered in dirt and caked blood. More than one person displayed symptoms of having flesh rotting diseases and most people were limping or sitting around begging. This was a village that not only its leaders had abandoned, but the gods themselves had forgotten.

Laslow and his (new) party had to travel through, unfortunately. Their alternative was to take the long way around through a forest that was said to be populated with giants. Not only were they not quite powerful enough to take on giants, but they were tired and needed to rest soon. Adding time to their already long journey was something none of them saw as an option. 

Laslow grimaced as a man with horrendous green bubbling marks all over his bare chest almost ambled into him. He subtly reached for Elise’s shoulder and pulled her close to whisper, “Don’t drink the water. Who knows what diseases we could contract here.” 

“We should move quickly,” Niles agreed, eavesdropping. “Stock up and sleep in the forest.” 

“If I can, I’d like to lend some help to these people,” Elise said. She was pure, Laslow had realized after traveling with her for so long. If she truly was a princess (it was a title everyone used openly, but no one really talked about what she was the princess of or what that entailed) then she was the most benevolent one he had ever known of. “Why don’t you two go buy some supplies and Odin and I will- Wait where’s Odin?” 

Laslow immediately stood up straight and started looking around. He was easily the tallest in the group and could see over most of the hunched over citizens of this village. He had a clear view of the surroundings, which he didn’t even need. Odin was a beacon in the worst ways. In a town painted over with so many unsettling shades of brown, his gold-lined cape and bright yellow hair practically emanated their own source of light. He had already attracted a small cluster of attention from some villagers who were admiring his extravagant clothing and appearance. 

The world slowed down around him as Laslow watched one of the admirers hand Odin a cup. Laslow’s feet were moving as it tipped up, but it was too late. A clear liquid was already running past Odin’s lips and his adam’s apple bobbed as it accepted it into his body. His smile grew as a cold dread fell on Laslow’s shoulders and he passed the cup to the next random villager. The world returned to a normal speed and Laslow stumbled into the crowd and clamped a hand on Odin’s shoulder. 

Odin turned and blinked at him. “Laslow, you have arrived just in time my friend! This is a welcoming ceremony of this village, the common cup of- whoa!” 

Laslow cut Odin’s dramatics off by dragging him away from the peering, silent villagers. He tossed Odin in between himself, Elise and Niles, who also crowded him, all looking perturbed. 

“You idiot,” Laslow hissed, thumping Odin on the temple lightly. “What if you get sick?” 

Odin straightened up. “Odin Dark does not get sick,” he announced triumphantly. “I am descended from mighty dragons! Human diseases cannot touch me!” 

Laslow met Niles’ gaze. “Is that true?” 

“You’re still a human, even if your distant ancestors were dragons. I have never met someone immune to diseases,” Niles said. 

“I knew someone,” Elise piped up. “Back home, there was a paladin at our palace that was so pure he couldn’t get sick. He was a human.” 

“Aha!” Odin exclaimed. 

“Well you’re not a paladin,” Niles reminded him, rolling his eyes. Laslow wanted to thunk him again, but refrained. “You’re not blessed by the gods by any means.” 

“Just… be more careful,” Laslow urged. “ _Don’t drink the water._ And I think the princess should keep an eye on you, just incase you start to show symptoms.” 

Odin sighed and slumped his shoulders. “I just wanted to partake in their cultural customs. Why is that so wrong?” But he must have conceded, because he didn’t oppose to Elise following him around for the rest of the day. 

Niles and Laslow (the later, rather hesitantly) broke away to go shopping. They were low on ammunition for their long-ranged weapons and healing potions, which they kept around as insurance if Elise’s magic ever ran out. (They figured it would be okay to buy healing potions in this villages as it would anywhere else. They were often boiled and created with magical ingredients that could probably not be grown in squalor conditions such as these. Still, the price was jacked up a little higher than most other villages, making them rather inaccessible to the towns folk at large.) They chose not to buy any food or drink otherwise. Niles was a pretty handy forager and if they could get somewhere with wildlife and trees, he would be able to scrounge up a sizeable meal for them. 

They met up again with Elise and Odin in the late afternoon. Elise looked even more exhausted than she had when they arrived, but Odin was beaming. He told them the tales of how Elise had healed a larger part of the population of their smaller ailments. Indeed, they were being trailed by a crowd of quiet beggars and pleaders. But their poor cleric was wiped out and had no more mana for the day, so they brushed the crowds off as best they could and made their escape of the village. 

Just as they were clearing the last building, Laslow caught sight of a man, hunkered down on the side of the road. He was breathing, but his gaze was pointed languidly up at the sky. His eyes were clouded over completely with white pupils in the center. And there were thin streams of dried red blood reaching from his tear ducts to the base of his jaw. It was just a moment that Laslow looked at this man, who clearly could not see him back, but the image made his skin crawl. He tried to shake the creepy feeling crawling over his skin, and focused on the road out. 

\--- 

As the sun began to set, the adventurers all felt a lot better. They were full and hydrated. The forest around them was full of life and color and in their particular vicinity smelled of cooked meat instead of decay. Though they hadn’t faced any physical altercations, they were all exhausted. It had been a long, emotionally taxing day. 

Laslow looked at the remains of the deer over their little fire pit. He had been so grateful when Niles popped out of the trees with the small doe. Now, though, it was a little eerie. He fixated on the protruding bones and the hollowed out skin and the does’ gaping jaw with her tongue sticking out. Her wide, soulless black eyes. The image of the blind man re-entered his brain for the first time in an hour and he shivered, then snuck a glance in Odin’s direction. 

Fortunately, Odin was lively as ever and showing no signs of stopping. He was bouncing around in the stream with his pants rolled up to his knees and his bare feet splashing in the ankle-deep water. He tried to catch a fish while shouting “BLACK ARCANA STRIKE” with his bare hands, but then slipped and fell on his ass. He was fine. Laslow sighed and shook the unsettling feeling from his brain. 

“Who’s going to keep watch?” Niles asked. “Laslow did it last night so it should be Elise’s turn but,” he looked at her. “She needs to rest.” 

“I will do it!” Odin announced, bouncing off his bum and out of the river with the hand that had failed him held high in the air. “My blood is boiling with more power than usual today, I do not think I could catch a wink of sleep even if I tried!” 

“That or a fish,” Laslow murmured to himself and he heard Niles chuckle. 

“Odin, are you sure?” Elise asked, her eyebrows knotted in concern. “Maybe you should rest tonight. Just in case.” 

“Nonsense! If this is about the sip of water I took from those villagers I will not hear of it! Odin Dark is _not_ sick and I will prove it by keeping our party safe tonight.” 

Half an hour later the light of the sun finally faded completely. Laslow dropped his sword, which he had been polishing quietly, into his lap and yawned. He looked around their camp absently. Elise was fast asleep, and she had been for several minutes already, on the other side of the dimming fire. And Odin- 

Laslow blanched. Odin was fast asleep a few paces away from Elise. He was still fully clothed, his arms and legs branched out wildly around his frame, and soft snores were escaping from his gaping mouth. 

Laslow looked up into a tree to his right were Niles was sitting on a sturdy branch, awake and watching the same scene he was. They shared a look and Niles shook his head. “Get some shut eye,” he murmured. “I got this.” 

Laslow nodded and then laid down on the grass, glaring at Odin before his eyelids started to close. 

He felt like he had just fallen asleep when a shout woke him up again. His senses kicked into overdrive and he was on his feet in an instant, searching for the source of the wailing. 

Niles was next to Odin, trying to pry his hands away from his eyes. Elise was clutching her holy symbol, a pendant she wore around her neck, and talking even though her words weren’t piercing Odin’s cries. Laslow was on his feet, scrambling to them in a second. 

“What’s going on?!” he shouted through the madness. 

“My eyes!” Odin howled. “They burn!” 

Laslow helped Niles wrench away one of Odin’s hands and his heart stopped. Blood. There was a thin stream of blood pouring out of the corner of his eye. Elise let out a yelp of surprise and muttered her incantation faster. 

After a few minutes of healing and yelling and soothing, Odin settled down. He quietly stood up and went to the stream to wipe the blood away, his friends watching with trepidation as he did. 

The sun was starting to rise by now. Odin turned back to the group and for a second, Laslow thought his eyes were cloudy. He thought of the man at the edge of town and that image overlapped with Odin’s face. But they were fine. A little red around the edges, but it just looked like he had been crying. 

“I apologize,” he murmured. “I don’t know what that was. I feel better now, though, thank you, Princess.” 

“Odin,” she said nervously. “I think we should find you a doctor. I can heal you if I know what is wrong.” 

He sputtered and waved her off. “No need, I’m fine. It was probably a curse someone put on me a couple of days ago. I already feel my magic overpowering it!” 

“How are your eyes?” Laslow asked, ignoring his claims. 

Odin blinked at him a few times, squinted, and then grinned. “Perfectly fine. In fact, I think I can see a little bit farther than I used to! Ha! The curse backfired and gave me a hawk’s vision! That will show anyone that dares mess with Odin Dark!” 

There was no arguing with him and nothing anyone could do to prove him otherwise. He was stubborn. So they reluctantly packed up their belongings and started traveling. 

For what it was worth, Odin was acting more hyper than usual. He talked a hundred miles an hour to anyone who would listen, broke out into frequent sprints when he didn’t need to, and partook in some impromptu parkour over a clutch of rocks at one point. He wasn’t showing any typical signs of fatigue or illness. Nothing since the bleeding eye symptoms earlier that morning. 

Around noon, the group was ambushed by a pack of gnolls, terrible humanoid hyena-like creatures. This wasn’t an abnormal encounter for adventurers traveling through a forest. And it was certainly one they had faced before. Gnolls were savage and ran in large numbers, but they were hardly a match for adventurers as powerful as these. 

And yet, Odin was struggling. 

Laslow noticed it about thirty seconds into the battle. They were fighting 1 on 3. Niles had found a tree and was sniping the gnolls from above. Elise hung back and was giving Laslow magical support. Laslow himself was hacking his way to the pack leader when he saw Odin trip and fall prone in front of three of the beasts. 

He cursed and dashed to Odin’s side, standing above him and driving his sword into one attacking gnoll. “Can you stand up?!” he shouted down at Odin. 

“I don’t need to stand to cast spells!” Odin countered, then shouted, “SCORCHING RAY!” 

Two large rays of fire flung outward from Odin’s person. Laslow had to bounce around them, then watched in horror as they both missed their targets and fizzled out in the air. Laslow looked down at Odin and saw him squint his eyes as he flung a third one. Were they a little less green than they had been? Had the cloudiness he’d noticed that morning not been in his mind after all? Laslow didn’t have time to think about it because the ball of fire struck him in the leg instead of its intended target. 

Elise put out the fire and Niles shot a quickly advancing gnoll. The battle took a bit longer than it would have with Odin on the ground and missing every attack he threw into the pack. When it was finally over and the last beast fell to the ground in a bloody heap at Laslow’s feet, he looked over at Odin, who was curled into the dirt with his head down and his hands balled into fists. His shoulders were shaking slightly. 

Laslow approached him slowly and knelt. He put one gloved hand on Odin’s shoulder and then pulled back when he flinched under the touch. “Odin,” he said firmly. “We’re getting you a doctor. That’s final.” 

For once, Odin didn’t protest. He sighed, slowly rose to his feet, kept his dull, green eyes pointed at the ground, and nodded solemnly. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

“If two people are busy tonight, then why are we still meeting?” Inigo asked into his phone as he walked out of a building he’d just had class in. 

“Because last night was too exciting to stop there!” Owain’s voice shouted from the other end and Inigo had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Leo agrees anyway. He said it will be much more interesting if I can play out the whole disease thing a bit longer without Elise’s help. We’ve never dealt with disease before and having a cleric on the team kinda… ruins the fun you know?” 

Inigo narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular as he walked. He didn’t know if he agreed with that. Maybe it was silly, but every time they played DnD he found himself feeling more and more sympathetic for the characters. The idea of having Laslow watch his new friend suffer from disease didn’t seem any fun at all. And what about Odin? Didn’t Owain have an almost spiritual connection to his character’s pain? Lord knows he had been wailing right along with Odin when his eyes bled. 

“I’m new and your eyes are going to fall out of your head. This seems like a bad idea. What if we run into trouble? Elise _and_ Niles will both be gone.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Owain reassured. “Leo won’t throw anything at us that we can’t handle.” 

Inigo blew a raspberry. “You’re gonna die.” 

“Impossible,” Owain boomed in his his quintessential Odin voice. “Try as the reaper might, he cannot clutch his boney hands round Odin Dark’s neck! He is near invincible! Oh! I’m at my building. See you tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Inigo said, then there was a click on the other line and he sighed. He was trying not to be bitter, but at the beginning of the week when Elise and Niles both announced that they had previous engagements this week and couldn’t meet for their regular tuesday session, Inigo had foolishly thought he would finally get a night with Owain all by themselves. So of course they were going ahead and playing DnD instead of just cancelling. What was Inigo thinking? 

Inigo chewed on his nail anxiously as he walked to his next class, consumed with the mental image of Odin’s world going dark around him. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

“Sight rot,” the doctor said. His tone was very dark and his expression was ominous. “It’s a painful, nasty disease. Left untreated, his eyes will bleed every morning and his sight will get worse and worse until he is totally blind. That takes about five days after the symptoms appear.” 

Odin didn’t respond. He was looking at his hands. So Laslow said, “Okay, is there a cure?” 

“I don’t have any experience with sight rot,” the doctor admitted. “I know that at least one cure exists, but it must be a closely guarded medical secret because I don’t know what it is.” 

“Okay,” Laslow sighed. “Well can you think of anyone who _does_ know what it is and can help us?” 

“Nope, don’t know anyone. Perhaps the king has a book on it, he has a book on everything in his library, but common folk are not generally allowed in there.” The doctor’s tone was getting thinner and thinner and he kept glancing at Odin nervously. Finally he said, “Now, if you would be so kind, please remove the patient from my premises. I don’t want to take any chances with that disease.” 

Laslow grabbed Odin by the wrist and stomped out of the clinic. Odin’s eyes had bled four times. It was the fourth day. If they couldn’t find a cure, he would be totally blind by tomorrow morning. It didn’t help that Elise and Niles had been captured shortly after the gnoll attack. Laslow was a newbie adventurer. He couldn’t free them alone. He needed Odin and his eyes. 

“Odin, watch out!” Laslow hissed, tugging on his collar to prevent him from running into a lamp post as they headed down the street. He sighed and Odin turned to beam at him innocently. “We have to think of something quickly. Niles and the princess have been in captivity for three days, you’re going blind, and I’m going to go mad babysitting you on my own. If you had just let the princess heal you when your eyes started bleeding, this would not be happening right now.” 

Odin’s eyes were a dull olive color, almost completely clouded over. There was no telling what the world looked like to him at this point. Probably just formless shapes and blurs of colors. And yet, he grinned as if nothing was wrong. “We’ll figure it out, friend. I have faith in you.” 

“We need more than faith, we need an idea of where to start,” Laslow said firmly. “Where can we find someone that knows the cure before the day is over?” 

Odin pursed his lips and thought about it. “The doctor said there might be a book about rare diseases in the king’s library.” 

“Might be,” Laslow agreed. “But he also said it was restricted to the public and we’re travelers, not even citizens. There’s no way we’ll get in there.” 

“Not lawfully,” Odin said grinning. 

Laslow narrowed his eyes. “You can’t see anything. What makes you think you can pull off a breaking and entering?” 

“You’re correct, I would be completely useless in a stealth mission right now. But you can do it.” Laslow started to protest, but Odin cut him off. “I know you are morally against law breaking, but consider doing this just once for me. It is my last hope.” 

Laslow looked up at the palace that loomed in the distance and sucked in a breath of air. “If Niles were here, he’d already have been in the library and been back by now.” 

He felt a tug on one of his sleeves and looked down to find Odin’s hand there. Odin himself was looking off in some random direction, grinning slightly. It was a little bit... jarring how small Odin had gotten since he got sick. The past 24 hours, especially, he had really cut down on his grand gestures, poses, and dramatic, long winded sentences. Now, Laslow saw, he was shaking a little. “He’s counting on you. So is Princess Elise. So am I. You can do this. We’ll all be with you in spirit. I have faith in _you_ , Laslow.” 

\--- 

Laslow was counting down hours as he crept up to the palace. The sun had set and when it came up again, Odin would bleed out the last of his sight. There was hardly any other choice, though. The palace was, naturally, heavily guarded. The darkness of night was just about the only handicap Laslow could think to give himself. Of course, without any light, Odin was left completely blind by himself. Laslow had to work quickly. 

Fortunately, the library was quite a ways down on the list of things in the palace that needed priority security. Laslow wasn’t here to assassinate or steal. He just wanted to read a little. He broke a rusty lock on a door that led through some empty servants hallways and found the room easily. 

Almost too easily. 

Laslow shook the negative thoughts from his head and started to peruse. There were a lot of books in the dark room. Thank the gods for his elvish heritage where he had acquired an ability to see fairly well in the dark; he didn’t have to light a torch or otherwise bring attention to his location. 

There was a severe lack of organization to the books, probably due to it being a mostly private collection. Laslow had to hide twice when guards walked through the library on their rounds. They were bored and not expecting Laslow. He was lucky that no one had found his broken lock yet. Perhaps no one would until the morning staff arrived. He had to be out before then anyway, for reasons other than getting caught. 

Finally, after at least a couple hours of searching, Laslow found a little collection of a dozen or so books that focused on medical theory. One of them had an extensive section on diseases. Laslow flipped through it hungrily. His heart was pounding. He imagined Odin’s eyes clearing to their brilliant gemstone glow. He said a short prayer that the cure wouldn’t take more than a few hours to procure. 

All at once, there it was. The word ‘Sight Rot’ written at the top of the page. A short blurb about the symptoms and causes. A couple of spells that would assuage the pain. And a picture of a foolproof cure. Laslow’s eyes widened and his breathe caught in his throat. He recognized it immediately. White petals with purple and yellow accents. The flowers illustrated on the page were the exact ones he had pressed in a book that was currently in Odin’s care. The flowers he had been tending to while a wizard was away. The ones the dragon had torched all but three of. They were called eyebright, and they were the cure Odin needed. 

In retrospect, Laslow should not have let his excitement overwhelm his caution. 

He heard the footsteps walking toward him, saw the light spill down the aisle he was standing in. But he had little more time to react, before a sword was coming down on him. 

The book clattered to the ground, and Laslow’s world went dark. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

“I think… I just died…” Inigo said slowly, eye transfixed on his sheet. No matter how many times he did the math, he didn’t have any more hitpoints. He looked at Owain and pointed at the box. “That’s zero, right? Did Laslow just die?” 

“He can’t die,” Owain said, grabbing the sheet from under him. Inigo lifted his hands and backed away, exasperated by his urgency. “You just started playing! And Odin is relying on him!” 

“I told you I wasn’t going to be great at this,” Inigo said with a shrug. “It was probably a bad idea to play tonight.” Owain re-did his math and got (unsurprisingly) the same result. _This could have been avoided_ , he thought bitterly. _If we had just stayed in together and enjoyed a night off, we could have come back in a couple of days and Elise would have healed you and Laslow wouldn’t be dead. Maybe this will teach him a lesson._ “So I guess I lose huh? No more dnd for me?” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Leo said. He looked mildly bored, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. “You’re not dead. You’re just unconscious.” 

Inigo blanked. “Uh… What? But my hit points… They’re-” 

“You’re dy _ing_ , but you have a chance to save yourself,” Leo explained as Owain triumphantly handed Laslow’s character sheet back to Inigo. “Now you get to roll death saving throws.” 

“What the hell is that?” 

“Roll a d20 and if you get less than 10 three times, you’ll die. But if you roll a 10 or higher three times before then, you will be stable. Of course, you’ll still be in captivity. But Odin could get his cure yet if you manage to succeed and escape.” 

Inigo tried not to visibly sigh. He could feel Owain’s eyes boring into him, so he gave in and glanced to the side. Sure enough, Owain was beaming. He looked… confident. Inigo looked down at the character sheet and thought of Laslow. This was just a game. And he still liked to think that he truly didn’t care whether he lived to play another game or died and got to bed a little earlier on tuesdays. 

But at the same time… Laslow had been _so close_. It felt unjust to just let him die if there was a way to finish this. 

“Okay,” he said, trying to sound as bored as Leo looked. “Let’s get this over with. Which one is the d20 again?” 

A moment later, the icosahedron clanked on the desk loudly. Inigo didn’t noticed that Owain wasn’t breathing next to him until it came up 15 and he let out a loud rush of breath. 

“That’s one,” Leo said outloud. 

Inigo picked up the dice and rolled it again, starting to feel confident. It landed and Owain made a pained noise behind him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly, like he was actually in pain. “Five,” Inigo read out-loud. 

“One failure.” 

“Be careful, Inigo,” Owain hissed. 

Inigo sighed and picked up the dice again. Another clunk as it rolled. Three. Owain wailed. 

Leo sighed from his desk. “Okay. If you get one more fail you really will die. And I’ll have to figure something else out for our next session where Odin is blind and Laslow is gone forever. Please don’t make me have to do that.” 

Inigo was a little irritated by that. He knew that Leo meant well, but it wasn’t like he could control the dice. That was the point of dice. It was random. He picked it up and prepared to roll again, but felt a hand dropped on top of his before he could. He looked up at Owain. 

“Inigo,” he said in a way too serious tone. “No matter what happens… I’m proud of Laslow for trying. He’s a hero. My hero.” 

It was so dramatic. It was so cheesy. This was just a game. But Inigo looked into Owain’s eyes, which were a crisp green like spring leaves, and he thought of Odin’s going dark. A new surge of determination sprouted in him, pushing away all of his irritation. This was just a game. But Laslow was _his_ character, damnit. And he had a job to do. 

Every bounce of the dice on the table echoed loudly through the room. Three pairs of eyes fixed on it as it rolled. No one blinked. No breathed. And then when it landed, Inigo wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe at all. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

Owain jumped out of his chair and started shouting and punching the air triumphantly. Leo smirked and Inigo turned to him for explanation, his eyes wide. The white letters pointing toward the ceiling read 20. The highest number he could roll. Good things always happened when 20’s appeared. 

“Not only are you alive,” Leo said smirking. “But you’re not unconscious and you heal to 1 hit point.” 

Inigo grinned and then was almost knocked out of his chair by the force of Owain slamming down on him as he whooped and hollered. “You did it, Inigo!” Owain shouted. “You’re going to save me from the darkness!” 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

Sneaking out of the palace from behind bars in the dungeon with a bad leg was much harder than sneaking in. It was dark through Laslow’s whole journey. He summoned the image of the eyebright flower to his mind and clung to it as he limped and crawled his whole way out of the palace. It was his motivation. Odin was his motivation. 

When he managed to get outside, his heart sank. The sun hadn’t come over the horizon yet, but the sky was breaking yellow across the darkness. He had to move. He hobbled away from the palace as fast as he could, squinting and grunting through the pain. 

Odin was leaning against the tree Laslow had left him at hours ago. He hadn’t moved. And as Laslow approached, he continued to not move. He just stared off into space, his eyes half lidded and his expression dull. 

It was hard to imagine what Odin Dark would look like if he ever gave up. Laslow figured this was as close as anyone would get. 

“Odin,” he hissed, and just like that the spell of despair was broken. Odin looked in his direction and laughed. 

“Laslow! I knew you could do it! Bards will sing stories for centuries about how you saved the legendary Odin from his own darkness!” 

Laslow grunted and fell on his knees. He was so exhausted and in pain. He needed to rest. But there was no time. “Don’t thank me yet. We have to make the ointment.” 

“Ointment?” 

“The flowers that I was watching for the wizard when we met,” Laslow explained as he started digging through their bags. Where was that book? “They’re a magical flower called eyebright. They can heal you.” 

“Fate smiles upon us this day, friend,” Odin said, and then sat back, looking a little useless as Laslow worked. 

Fortunately they had looted an herbalism kit off of a body about a week ago and hadn’t re-sold it yet. Laslow had no idea how to use it, neither did Odin, but the book had detailed the step-by-step process for this particular cure a little. Laslow worked from memory. He was sure it wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. 

Finally, the sun broke the line of the horizon. Odin blinked and a single red tear rolled down his cheek. “Laslow,” he said gravely. “It’s time.” 

Laslow crawled up to him and started to lather the flower paste on his closed eyelids as a few more drops of blood broke free. His hands were shaking and Odin’s lip was quivering. He wondered if Odin was pain. If he was, he was better at hiding it now than he had been five days ago. 

When all three flowers were applied, Laslow sat back and nervously observed his handiwork. “Do you feel any better?” 

“I feel confident,” Odin said, smirking. He kept his eyes closed though, letting the ointment settle in. “Their magic is seeping into my body.” 

“Good. The book said you should rest. And… Hopefully…” 

“Laslow.” Laslow had started to fidget with the motor and pestle in his hands. He stopped when Odin reached for him and clumsily grabbed a hand. “I’m going to be fine. You saved me.” It was silly that Odin was the one reassuring Laslow in this situation. But still. His words lifted some of the weight off of his shoulders. 

He helped Odin lay down and then watched him for a few minutes before his exhaustion overtook him and he unconsciously curled into Odin’s side, falling into a deep slumber. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

“You both take a long rest. When you wake up, Laslow isn’t dying anymore and Odin can see,” Leo said shortly, then he closed a book behind his short privacy screen and said, “I think that’s it for tonight. Good work. I’ll see you-” 

“Wait!” Owain shouted. He slammed his hands on the table for extra drama and it worked. Inigo jumped, at least. “There’s one more thing I want to do!” 

“Can’t it wait until after Niles and Elise are rescued?” Leo asked impatiently. “I have an early class tomorrow.” 

“It won’t take very long,” Owain said. His determination was fierce and evident. “Just a quick morning after scene. There’s some character development I’ve been thinking about adding and if I’m going to do it, now is the perfect time.” 

“Fine,” Leo sighed and settled back into his seat. “Go ahead.” 

Owain took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly. It reminded Inigo of sitting on his bedroom floor in high school, watching Owain read Shakespeare out loud with dramatic flare. Owain wasn’t an actor, but he was a fantastic story teller. 

“Odin wakes up a little bit before Laslow,” he started, eyebrows knotted in sincerity. “He sits up and wipes the medicine off of his eyes. Then he blinks, slowly, letting his vision adjust to the light. And it does. The world is no longer shapeless blobs of darkness. It is a burst of color, hard edges and details. He can see a squirrel scamper into a tree just to his left. He can see the veins in a leaf that fell beside his hand. He can see each individual blade of grass around him, and how the whole world is being painted in warm amber colors by the setting sun. He would almost begin to cry from joy, if he did not then see Laslow. 

“This robust and beautiful elf, with his long limbs curled in tight. His face is peaceful and soft. Odin reaches down instinctively and brushes a lock of silver hair from his forehead so that he can better see his long eyelashes and copper skin. His gentle, even breathing. Odin just watches him. It has been five days since he saw that face with any such clarity. He had been so afraid of forgetting what Laslow looked like, so afraid that the darkness would take his memories along with his sight. He’s never been so grateful to see as he is now.” 

Inigo wanted to tease Owain. He wanted to make a joke about watching Laslow while he slept like he was a creepy vampire stalker. He wanted to bring some lightness to the thick air. But he was captivated. Leo wasn’t talking. Inigo was hardly _breathing_. It had been so long since he’d heard Owain monologue, and this was fresh material right off the top of his brain. He looked so beautiful as he talked, too. Small gestures with his hand to match the mood, tone even and firm and deep. Owain wasn’t looking at him, but that was fine. Inigo couldn’t tear his gaze away, and he might be a little embarrassed if Owain caught the face he was making. Inigo held back on his quips and clung to Owain’s words instead in anticipation for what he thought was about to happen. 

“When Laslow finally wakes and opens his eyes, Odin is overcome with emotion. He decides in that moment that Laslow is perhaps the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his entire life. So he does what is only natural. Before Laslow can speak, Odin leans down and places a kiss upon his lips.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I sort of stretched the rules for sight rot and eyebright a little. A seasoned DnD player (or anyone with access to wikipedia) could point out the flaws here (neither of them have herbalism kit profiency; the time it takes to make an eyebright ointment and apply it is a lot longer than what they had to work with). But I bent the rules a little for the ~drama~. Thank you for your patience in this matter.


	3. Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY THREE ONE WHOLE DAY LATE. I'll get the next chapter up tomorrow and this fic will just be a day behind. ;A; I'm sorry I let you down. Also sorry that this chapter is shorter than the previous ones. I just couldn't keep up with my insane early pacing. I hope it's not too underwhelming. I feel like it's rushed and probably not edited well. I'll try to be better for the rest of the fic ;A;
> 
> PLEASE CHECK OUT OWAINIGO WEEK WHERE EVERYONE EXCEPT ME UPLOADS WONDERFUL THINGS ON TIME, IT'S AT OWAININGOWEEK.TUMBLR.COM AND LEAVE A COMMENT THANK U LOVE U THANKS FOR READING

“I have good news, Inigo!” Owain said as his character punched Inigo’s square in the jaw on the tv. “As you may know, I am re-reading some of my favorite Shakespearean plays for a project. And I just can’t help but feel as though I have finally realized the perfect name for our future daughter.”

Inigo put down his controller as his player fell to the ground defeated. “Owain,” he started, his eyebrows knotted in concern. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” 

“Don’t tell me you have decided you wouldn’t want a child,” Owain said, also putting down his controller and tilting his head to face Inigo. “Or perhaps you are going to say you’d rather raise a boy? I would have no qualms with that, but I do have to put my foot down about having children at all. We would make inspiring guardians! It would be a crime for us to not pass on our legacy.” 

“No, I…” Inigo cleared his throat. This was important. He’d been sitting on it for a few months now, wondering when or _if_ he should bring it up. He just couldn’t go on like this anymore. His friendship with Owain was far too valuable to risk on these tricky emotions. “It’s not that. I mean, I know I’ll be a great father someday and you probably will be too. But we’re about to graduate high school. We have to stop joking around about getting married and all that. We’re adults now, it’s time to get serious about our futures.” 

Owain squinted his eyes for a moment then twisted his body so he was no longer leaning up against his bed and was properly facing Inigo. “I am serious,” he said flatly. 

Inigo scoffed. “Owain. We’re not gonna get married to each other just because we’re both 30 and still single. That’s ridiculous and sounds miserable. Marriage isn’t the same as just being roommates.” 

“Of course it’s not. Our pact isn’t to be roommates if we’re 30 and still single. Our pact is to form a bond of marriage if we’re 30 and still single. What a ridiculous comparison.” 

Inigo was getting frustrated and he knew it showed on his face. His heart was racing. “So you’re telling me you are actually _seriously_ okay with marrying someone you don’t feel romantic love for, just so you have have another warm body in your bed and someone to bicker over chores with for eternity?” 

“But I wouldn’t be marrying someone I don’t love. I’d be marrying you.” 

Inigo’s chest tightened. “What?” he said quietly. 

“I’m in love with you,” Owain said as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. 

“I’m in love with you too,” Inigo said back softly. 

Then Owain grinned and it was the most sunshine bright smile Inigo had seen since the last time something made Owain happy. It was so casual, but so sincere and warm. “See? What are you worrying about? We’ll have a happy marriage.” 

Owain must have felt satisfied with that, because he turned back to the TV and picked up his controller, already going through the menu screen to play another round. Inigo couldn’t believe it. He smacked the controller out of Owain’s hand. “Hey!” 

“Owain, you idiot!” Inigo shouted. “We just confessed to each other! What are you doing?” 

Owain blinked. “We did?” 

“Yeah, kinda! I thought the pact was a joke!” 

“Well then you must be thrilled to find out it’s a genuinely good idea, aren’t you?” 

“Screw the pact, Owain! We’re in love with each other _right now_. Why are we waiting? If we start dating now, there will be no risk of us dating other people between now and 30.” 

Owain darted his gaze across the room, thinking it over. This was by far the dumbest conversation they’d ever had, and yet Inigo could feel the blood pumping in his ears. He was going crazy. 

“If we start dating right now…” Owain started, slowly, after a few seconds. “Does that mean I can kiss you?” 

That was it. Inigo melted. All of the tension inside of him leaked out and he sagged toward Owain, laughing a little hysterically and shaking all over as he took Owain’s face in his hands. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Please do, you fucking nerd.” 

\--- 

Inigo glared at the little bridge in the middle of campus. A guy in the middle was down on one knee and the girl in front of him was bouncing and squealing so loud it had attracted a small crowd of touched on-lookers. This was a thing at Krakenberg, apparently. There was a little pond in the middle of a large lawn with a decorative arched bridge going over it. It was a notorious engagement site in the spring. Couples that got engaged on that bridge at Krakenberg were said to stay together forever. This was probably the fourth proposal Inigo had seen in a fortnight. And he was bitter about it. 

Inigo had been playing a lot of dungeons and dragons lately. Too much, perhaps. The fact that he was using words like ‘fortnight’ in casual thought was testament to that. He was actually really enjoying it. But it was starting to feel like a chore again when he realized he almost _had_ to do it to get _any_ time at all with his boyfriend. 

Laslow and Odin, Inigo and Owain’s characters, were dating in the canon of their current campaign. Inigo and Owain were also dating, they had been for a few years now (much longer than their characters, Inigo often reminded himself, not that he was keeping score). However, Inigo couldn’t help but feel as though Laslow was getting more attention than he was. He found himself often slipping into the past, remembering those precious months he spent with Owain before they went off to colleges on different ends of the country, rushing to memorize everything they could about each other before they were separated for four years. Now Inigo was here. He was within reach. Their separation nightmare was over, and they were sleeping in separate beds, exhausted every night after playing a fantasy rpg for four hours. 

He was (and it felt stupid to admit it) a little worried that Owain had forgotten they were dating. But he had no idea how to bring it up. It felt like highschool all over again. 

_Tonight_ , Inigo thought with determination as he turned and left the scene of the recently engaged couple smooching in public. _Tonight can either make or break this situation._

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

“Laslow. You have to calm down,” Elise giggled as she smoothed out the bottom corner of his white jacket, which was just at her eye level. 

Laslow took a deep breath, counted to ten, then released it slowly. His hands were still shaking. “Sorry. It’s just been a while since I was in front of so many people. I guess I have a little bit of stage fright.” 

“That’s silly, you’re not performing anything,” Elise said in her tiny, yet firm voice. “The people here aren’t going to boo you away for being too boring when you exchange your _vows_.” She smiled up at him. “Everyone in that room just wants the best for you and Odin. We’re all so proud of you.” 

Laslow sucked in another shaky breath, then nodded. “You’re right.” 

“Of course I am,” she said proudly. “If you get nervous, just keep your eyes on Odin. You’ll forget there is anyone else in the world.” 

At that moment, the doors to the chapel opened and music started to fill the large space. Laslow went rigid. It was time. There was no turning back. He was about to wed his soulmate in front of a whole town of people. 

Elise grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. It was difficult, with their extreme height difference, to walk arm and arm down the aisle. She carried a little bouquet in her other hand. It was a mixture of purple flowers with three rare eyebrights right in the center. Laslow had no idea where she had found them, but he was touched by it. 

He tried to focus on the flowers or the altar up front as they rounded the corner and saw the small mass of people that had gathered for the ceremony. Laslow knew maybe a fifth of them. These were people from the town where his party’s home base was located. They had good relations with these people, but Laslow was still rather new to the team. And what with all their adventuring, he had little time to socialize when they took breaks. Now he was feeling their eyes on him and wishing he had introduced himself to more people. They were probably questioning who he was to think he deserved eternal happiness with one of their local heros. 

Speaking of, just as Laslow was about to drown in their scrutiny, Odin appeared. He walked next to Niles as they rounded a parallel aisle on the other side of the chapel. The two pairs came in at the same time and walked to the front then toward each other around the pews of onlookers. Odin was glowing. From his sunshine blonde hair, to his bronze dragon scales, to the gold lining on his formal wear, he was radiating as he walked past the tall windows. Laslow felt like he could look into the sun and survive. In fact, looking into the sun gave him a reason to live. 

He fixed his gaze on Odin and felt safe and grounded as they approached the front at the same speed. Suddenly nothing else mattered. The people watching, the nerves in his stomach, it all drifted away. Nothing could ruin this day. Nothing could take this moment from him. 

He was so absorbed in his blinded happiness, that he didn’t even notice that the priest was not the man they had hired or practiced with. Or even, at first, that he was abandoning his post at the front of the sanctuary until he was standing in between them. 

“Is this your idea of an equal transaction?” the priest said. Laslow stopped walking. He couldn’t see Odin anymore with this man in the way and his smile slipped. “You run off to live happily ever, and I come home to burnt ruins?” 

The imposter lifted his head, their eyes met, and realization rippled through Laslow. It was the wizard that had hired him to house sit all those months ago. The one whose property he had abandoned in favor of new friends and adventures. He was still speechless, though. There were too many aspects of this situation to process at once. And the old man was still standing between him and Odin. 

The wizard glanced down at the bouquet in Princess Elise’s hand and his frown deepened. “You have no shame. And for crossing me, you will pay.” 

Laslow only had a second to react. He wrapped his body around Elise and threw her behind the nearest pew as a ball of fire surged toward them. The people sitting around them scattered and the panic spread through the sanctuary like a virus. Screams and clattering and running and the smell of smoke filled everything. 

From there, the battle took little over a minute to resolve. It happened so quickly. 

Elise sat up and Laslow glared over his shoulder at the wizard, who was radiating visible magical energy, already preparing another attack. Odin’s voice echoed through the room as it shouted “COUNTERSPELL”, and the attack died. Then a bolt from a crossbow lodge itself through his shoulder and he slumped just enough to give a view of Niles who had moved several feet away behind him, a recently deployed hand crossbow in his possession. 

“Of course he brought a weapon to my wedding,” Laslow murmured. He turned back to Elise just in time to see her rip her blue pendant out of her bouquet and effectively spread petals everywhere. “You too?!” 

Elise giggled, completely unphased by the surprise attack. “Well we couldn't expect you and Odin to be armed on your big day. That would be rude. Now duck. Sacred Flame!” 

A shimmering ball of fire fell towards the wizard. He dodged out of range and in that moment, Laslow could see Odin. It was just a moment. Their eyes locked and they knew each other was okay. And Laslow knew he needed to get a weapon if he wanted to get married today. 

Before the attack was even over, Laslow felt Elise’s little hand on his arm. Her pendant glowed as she muttered something, and then he felt her magic rush through his veins. He was suddenly pleasantly warm and secure, like being wrapped up in a quilt by a fire. She blinked up at him a moment later as the magic settled into his skin and said, “He can’t hurt you now. Do what you need to do.” 

Odin’s voice rang through the sanctuary, casting another spell that he only needed theatrics for. Laslow didn’t stand around to watch, though. He stood up and bolted for the altar about 20 feet away. There was an iron standing candelabra that he was pretty sure he could beat someone with. 

As he picked up the impromptu staff, an unnatural black tentacle-like thing squirmed out of the ground beneath it. The ground broke and Laslow hopped backwards. The writhing thing tried to reach for him but stopped against the radiant armor surrounding his body. 

It shriveled back into the ground but, to Laslow’s horror, reappeared beside the wizard to ensnare Odin instead. And this time it succeeded. Four black tentacles broke through the tiles and coiled around Odin’s torso. They pinned his arms to his body. The wizard was snarling. “If I can’t exact my revenge on you directly, then I will repay your atrocity and destroy something precious to you." Odin grunted and winced as the tentacles tightened around him. His body, Laslow noticed a bit belatedly, was recently covered in spines like he was a sea-urchin, but they were doing nothing to abate the crush of the tentacles. 

The wizard ranted about equality, but the life of Laslow’s fiancé was hardly a fair trade for a patch of flowers. Even if they had ended up being magical medicine flowers. Laslow tightened his grip on the candelabra and got ready to charge. But a second bolt from Niles’ crossbow stopped him. 

It lodged itself in the wizard’s calf this time. When it was firmly in his body, the wood of the bolt splintered and thin, thorny vines crept up the wizard’s legs. Soon, they had reached halfway up his thighs and he struggled to move. Niles chuckled. “I didn’t realize you were into bondage, or I would have done this sooner. Thought you might wanna try it yourself since we’re throwing the golden rule around.” 

Elise’s voice echoed around the room and Laslow, somewhere in the back of his mind, felt a little stronger. But he didn’t pay it much heed. His blood was pounding in his ears and his gaze was targeted on the restrained wizard. He started to charge. 

Just before Laslow could reach them, Odin bounced backward onto the black tentacles that were holding him up, using them as support so he could kick the wizard in the face. His blow landed and with his feet covered in hard black needles, the wizard reeled to the right. Before he could even think to recover, the candelabra connected with the other side of his face and forced him to the left again. The two attacks, in rapid succession on either side of him, knocked several teeth from the wizard’s mouth, and he crumpled to the floor beneath them. 

The tentacles around Odin faded and he dropped to the ground on his feet. But the vines around the wizard crept up farther as the party approached and surrounded him. Niles put the hand crossbow to his head, daring him to try and stand, while Odin kicked away the wand he had been using. 

The wizard didn’t move. He didn’t try to attack again. His arms rested above his head and he groaned slightly. Laslow knelt beside his face and said, “I’m sorry for abandoning my post. It was the wrong, selfish thing to do. But if it can end this now, I will pay you back in gold for the lost collateral. Will you leave me alone if I give you 10,000gp?” 

Niles raised an eyebrow at Laslow, but didn’t remove his weapon. “Why are you offering him money? We have him under our foot right now. We won.” 

Laslow shrugged. “It seems like the right thing to do. This has been weighing on my conscious anyway. I’ve been saving up and I was going to pay him back whether or not he tracked me down eventually or not.” 

The wizard glared at Laslow with one eye for a few seconds then sighed and said, “Fine. We have a deal. Send it to me within the fortnight and I will let you free. Break this agreement, and I truly will kill everything you love in front of you.” Then he muttered, “Teleport” and vanished. 

The church was ruined and empty. All of the guests had fled, the priest was missing, the floor was busted up in several places, there was blood splattered in a few select spots, and most pews were upturned. But Elise was a certified officiant and they had at least one other witness. So Laslow and Odin got married. Odin’s spines disappeared, Laslow returned the candelabra, and then they grabbed each other’s hands in front of Elise in the ruined church to do the ceremony as best as they could from memory. 

When it came time to exchange their vows, something they had prepared in advance, Laslow sputtered. “I can’t… remember anything I wrote down. I’m sorry. Right now I’m just so grateful that you stopped me from throwing my life away. I was more right about that wizard smiting me for losing his flowers than I thought. You saved me… That’s it.” 

“We’ve saved each other, Laslow,” Odin said, with a depth of sincerity that was not common in his voice. Everything he said was sincere, but not everything _sounded_ as sincere as this did. He took a deep breath and held Laslow’s eye contact as he went on. 

“We have rescued and supported each other more times than I can count. When we met and I recruited you to join our party, it was for selfish reasons. We needed someone hardy to put between us and the enemies without risking our cleric. I was expecting you to save me in battle a lot. What I wasn’t expecting was for you to save me from the darkness. From my own recklessness. From living a half a life, never knowing the other side of my soul. 

“I know who I am, that I am often times too bold and brash for the common man. That I rush in too often and get lost in my own fantasies. But with you by my side, there’s balance. You keep me grounded, mentally and emotionally. You reel in my chaos and stop me from making reckless, often stupid decisions. But you also indulge my weirdness and find something beautiful in the foundation of my being. You give me a reason to wake up every morning and a goal to aim for my whole life. And you give me something to protect, as much as you give me protection in return. 

“The well of my love is deep and yet overflows. Laslow, I have loved you and therefore no matter what happens in my life, I can say I have known true happiness. I’m only so grateful that here, today, I get to pledge myself to that happiness for as long as I draw breath.” 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

Inigo was staring at Owain. His vision was cloudy from the beginnings of tears and he was just _staring_. And Owain wouldn’t return his gaze. He wouldn’t meet his eyes. He was standing and waving his arms around dramatically as he laid out Odin’s well developed speech, but he wouldn’t engage with Inigo at all. Too focused on the game, not the words he was saying. 

And it _hurt_. 

And it was the final straw. 

“Do you, Odin, take Laslow to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Elise said, also in a grand voice, almost mimicking Owain. 

“I do,” Owain said slowly, bowing his head and closing his eyes. Not looking at Inigo. 

“And do you, Laslow, take Odin to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Inigo blanked. He had no more words. He was so… Furious. And sad. And lonely. He blinked and a tear broke free and that was the moment he knew he had to bail. He stood from his chair and said quickly, “Yeah, sure, whatever. I have to go.” Then he ran. 

Ignoring the concerned shouts of his friends, Inigo bolted from Leo’s game room and then his apartment at large. He power walked down the stairs and out the door. It was dark. The parking lot was filled with cars, but void of people. Inigo cursed when he remembered Owain was his ride, and a few more tears broke free as he pulled out his phone to call an uber. 

He was crying because the speech was beautiful. It was everything he needed from Owain and more, yet it had been written for and directed at a fictional character. It was exactly what Inigo feared would happen when he found out they would be playing a campaign based around the fantasy wedding. Owain hadn’t let him down in that regard, at least. 

Before Inigo could even get the ride sharing app to load, the door he had exited from burst open. Owain stumbled out and grabbed his arm. His eyes were blown wide and his eyebrows were slanted in concern. “Inigo?! What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

Inigo wiped a tear off of his cheek and glowered at Owain. “You know we’re dating, right?” he spat. 

Owain blinked a few times too quickly. His grip on Inigo slackened. “Y-Yes? Of course we are. We just got married in the-” 

“That was a GAME!” Inigo shouted, half at the sky, half at Owain. “I just watched you say things that were more thoughtful than anything you have said to me, _Inigo_ , not Laslow, ever since I got here. You’re treating me like we’re friends again. Playing games and ignoring the obvious reality. I already went through that business in high school. It sucked.” 

Owain slid his grip down Inigo’s arm until he could grab his hand. Inigo looked at it, let their fingers entwine, and blinked softly at how they fit together. “I love you,” he said, almost whispered. “The real you. Owain. My boyfriend. Do you still love me, or is this all role playing to you now?” 

Then, finally, Owain said the right thing. Which was nothing at all. He grabbed Inigo’s chin with his free hand and tilted their lips together. Inigo let him, because it was what he was craving. It was a wet kiss, partially from the tears and partially from their slowly moving, open mouths and meandering tongues. 

It ended with the softest pop and a heavy sigh. Owain wrapped both of his arms around Inigo and pulled him in tightly. Securely. “I’m sorry,” he said into Inigo’s hair. “I got caught up in all of it. I thought the vows… I thought you would like them. I didn’t realize that you were feeling like this. Of course I love you. Those words I used in the game… They were all about you and I shouldn’t have spent them on a fictional character.” 

Owain took a deep breath then said, with every ounce of sincerity he could muster, “You indulge my weird hobbies while keeping me grounded in the real world. You give me a reason to wake up every morning and go to class, to get a job, to take care of you. And to make sure you are also following your own goals, so that you can take care of me in turn. You’re my everything. I’m overflowing with the desire to have you in all aspects of my life. Fantasy _and_ reality. I think of nothing more often than I do the future I want to spend with you.” 

Inigo looked up into Owain’s green eyes. They were so sad. He felt bad. It was almost as if he had forgotten that Owain was a dramatic nerd. Reciting how he felt in fictional vows was probably the best vehicle for him to express himself. And Inigo had held that against him. They needed to meet in the middle and Inigo had to admit he was as wrong as Owain. 

“I’m sorry for exploding. There was probably a better way to do that.” 

“Do you…” Owain cleared his throat. “Do you want to stop paying DnD?” 

Right away, Inigo hated that question. Yes, he was upset that Owain had neglected him in favor of a game for so long. But did that make him want to stop playing? Absolutely not. Despite the snark that he brought through Leo’s front door, he always found himself having a fun time. And if he stopped playing, what would happen to Laslow? That was a silly question, he knew, but it still felt important to address. Laslow wasn’t real, but he _felt_ real to Inigo. He created Laslow, brought him to life, and therefore Laslow was his responsibility. This had turned into so much more than sitting next to his boyfriend for a few hours every night. 

“Of course I don’t,” Inigo said, blushing a little. “I just want to occasionally duck out early and spend some time in the real world. With you. That’s all.” 

Owain smiled softly. He whispered, “Can you forgive me for putting more effort into our fake marriage than our real relationship?” 

“Yes,” Inigo whispered back. He cleared his throat and straightened up, determined to at the very least seize this moment. “You can actually make it up to me tonight. There’s still one DnD scene we have to play out.” 

Owain tilted his head to the side in his cute, lost puppy way. “You want to go upstairs? I thought you were done for the night.” 

“I am,” Inigo said. “I don’t think the others, not even Leo, need to be around for Odin and Laslow’s wedding night.” 

Owain got to work peppering Inigo with kisses immediately. He pecked his lips, then his nose and his cheeks and started working toward his neck while muttering soft “I love you so much”s as a chuckling Inigo half-tugged him toward the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey are you a giant nerd for me and want to see the actual dnd transcript of that fight? Well here it is, written out plainly so you can see exactly how many rules I fudged and abilities I ignored to get the fight I wanted! :'D I approximate the characters to about level 10 (I made them character sheets guys I'm in deep.) and the wizard is idk. higher than them. high enough to cast teleport lol
> 
> Battle transcript:  
> 0:00 Surprise Round: Wizard: Cast Fire bolt, misses  
> 0:06 Wizard: Cast Fire Bolt. Odin: Reaction, Counterspell. Fire Bolt fails.  
> 0:12 Niles: Moves back 10 ft. Attack Hand crossbow 1d6+2  
> 0:18 Elise: Casts Sacred Flame 2d8. Bonus Action: Casts Sanctuary on Laslow.  
> 0:24 Odin: Bonus Action (Quickened Spell) Casts Alter Self, Attack Piercing Punch 1d6+1  
> 0:30 Laslow: Moves to altar, Equips Candelabra  
> 0:36 Wizard: Casts Evard’s Black Tentacles misses Laslow, hits Odin instead.* Odin is restrained. 3d6 bludgeoning damage. Maintains Concentration on Alter Self.  
> 0:42 Niles: Bonus action Casts Ensnaring Strike. Action: Attacks Hand Crossbow 1d6+2, Hits. 1d6 from vines. Wizard restrained, maintains concentration on Black Tentacles.  
> 0:48 Elise: Casts Bless on Laslow, Odin, Niles.  
> 0:54 Odin: Attack Kick with spined feet 1d6+1 piercing, hits. Wizard maintains concentration on black tentacles.  
> 1:00 Laslow: Moves to wizard. Attacks with candelabra, Critical Hit 1d4x2 bludgeoning damage. Wizard knocked prone, loses concentration on Black Tentacles.  
> Wizard Surrenders.
> 
> *This is not a real thing, Evard’s black tentacles are not a targeted attack, i fudged this hard. Sue me.


	4. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. I'm sorry everyone. I dropped the ball on Owainigo week after some pressing family and work obligations came up. I'm still going to finish this fic, of course! Don't worry! I'm not changing anything, the chapters will still be inspired by the Owainigo Week 2017 prompts. Thank you for sticking around. :) I'm going to try to produce a quality few chapters for you to finish this up.
> 
> Thank you to everyone that participated in Owainigo week! I'm not a mod or anything for it, I'm just SUPER passionate about ship weeks! lol I'm going to drool over that blog for days. And thank you Kibu and Dorkpatroller for organizing it! Go check it out on tumblr everyone. Okay. On with dnd.

Owain’s chest was just a little sticky as Inigo ran his fingers down it. It had been hot and humid lately, with summer fast approaching. The sun had risen a long time ago even though it was only 8am. The window below Owain’s lofted bed was open to let in their only source of fresh air and the occasional bird chirping. Between the breeze and their bare bodies pressed together, it was barely comfortable enough that they were content to curl into each other. They had nowhere to be for a couple of hours, so there was time to just enjoy the feel of their bodies together.

Inigo was so happy, words could not describe it. He liked these moments. They were both awake, basking in their morning afterglow and each other. They didn’t have any classes today or tomorrow or for the rest of the summer, as yesterday had been the last day of finals. Soon enough they would be back home, getting some rest and relaxation. Or, at least, Inigo would. Owain would join him after his annual family vacation. 

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” 

“My flight leaves at 5 am,” Owain murmured into Inigo’s hair. He was still a little sleepy. Probably because of the intimacy Inigo had drawn out of him first thing when they woke up a little while ago. 

“Damn. How long are you gone this year?” 

“I believe Uncle Chrom said it would be a six week excursion?” 

“Owain, jesus,” Inigo hissed. “That’s half of the summer.” 

“I know.” Owain said. He shifted his body on to his side so that they could face each other. “They get longer and longer every year. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Inigo grumbled. “Honestly if I hadn’t transferred here this year, it would’ve sucked a lot more. We were separate for two and a half years, what’s another six weeks?” 

Owain grinned and the corner of his mouth disappeared into his pillow. “I appreciate the understanding. I’ll bring you back many glorious souvenirs, I promise. And we’ll see each other over video chat when we play DnD.” 

In another time, that would have bothered Inigo. The implication that they were going to spend their summer playing Dungeons and Dragons instead of going out and getting sun. But Inigo was actually looking forward to it. He was still going to get plenty of sun, but without homework they would be able to play longer, in depth games. Inigo was excited for the possibilities. 

“It’s going to be weird, talking to everyone through the computer instead of just being around the same table,” he said absently. 

“You’ll get used to it. We do it every summer, so you’re in the hands of experts.” 

“How did I never notice this before?” 

“We used to play in the mornings, before you woke up.” 

“So what you're saying is,” Inigo propped himself up by his elbows so that Owain could clearly see his playful smirk. “You’ve been two timing me and DnD all this time?” 

Owain blushed. “It just never came up!” 

“How does something not come up with _you_?” Inigo laughed. “I’m more impressed than anything, honestly.” 

Owain pushed himself up on his elbows too. They stared at each other for a quiet moment, Inigo propped up on his stomach and Owain propped up on his back. Inigo admired the way Owain’s hair and smooth skin glistened in the natural light filtering into the room. Owain bit his lip, thinking hard about something. 

“Are you alright with it?” He asked finally. “Playing DnD all summer? It doesn't bother you?” 

“I told you I’m over it,” Inigo said with an amused sigh. “In moderation, its really fun.” 

Owain brightened. “So you like it?” 

“Of course I do,” Inigo said. But then he realized, he had never said that Owain. Not really. He had never admitted out loud that he wasn't just tolerating it. He’d never shared the graciousness he genuinely felt for being invited to play. “Thank you. For introducing me to to DnD. I really love it.” 

If Owain could get any brighter, he did and Inigo couldn't help but lean forward and kiss him. It was just a peck at first, their lips stuck together and produced a satisfying click when they pulled away. There was a content hum, and then Owain wrapped two arms around Inigo and crushed him into his chest. Inigo laughed, then let himself be flipped over and kissed crazy. 

Owain had been like this ever since the wedding night. He was clingy and horny. Inigo was too, so it was all very much appreciated and reciprocated. But especially on DnD nights, it seemed heightened. Inigo had finally figured out how to manipulate the situation to his benefit. 

The kissing slowed and then stopped and Owain sat up for real. The comforter fell away from his bare chest. He stretched and his arms flexed. He let out an egregious cry when he came down from his yawn and said, “I feel invigorated! Do you feel as ready as I am to take on today’s quest?” 

Inigo chuckled. “I don’t think I’m quite on your level, babe. But yeah, I’m ready.” 

It was the day after finals and the last day for students to loiter around their dorms and campus before they were shooed away for the summer. They had the whole day to rest and recoup. So naturally, they were going to spend all day, roughly ten straight hours, playing the first session of a new arc in their campaign that Leo had hand written for them. Inigo would be hard pressed to find a way he would rather spend the last day of his first semester at Krakenberg University. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

A scream filled the air alongside all the other chaos of clashing weapons and grunting and wood burning. It was close enough to catch Laslow’s attention, but he had just engaged the attention of his own bulbous, hulking, green-skinned, iron-masked flesh golem. He couldn’t spend the time taking it down properly when a person needed him, so he slashed at the creature's feet and didn’t stick around to watch it tumble clumsily to the ground. He could always come back and kill it later; at least it wasn’t mobile to cause anymore destruction for the time being. 

A few paces away, Laslow found the young woman who released the scream. She was still whimpering, and seemed to be struggling against the grasp of one of the golems. It had one of her hands in its massive fist and was dragging her closer. What it planned to do with her, Laslow didn’t want to hesitate to find out. He charged the distracted creature and drove his sword into its side. He was grateful that he had just sharpened his blade the night before. It had been a while since he’d seen battle and this one had caught him by surprise early that morning, when he’d still been asleep. The sword sliced through the poorly constructed flesh with a disgusting visceral noise and the creature released the woman. 

It was one small victory, but was overshadowed by two new problems. The woman tried to retreat, but was trapped up against Laslow when two more golems came to the aid of their freshly wounded compatriot. They were surrounded. 

Laslow grabbed the woman’s hand behind him firmly and said, “I’m going to get you out of here. Hit the ground.” She did without more than a moment’s hesitation. Laslow was glad that he had finally spent time building relationships with the people of this village, which had suddenly became his home when he joined the party of adventurers a few years ago. The citizens trusted him, which was coming in handy during this sudden crisis. 

Laslow didn’t like to boast, but he was one of the best swordsmen in the land at this point in his life. These golems, huge and disgusting and foreboding, were no match for him. He spun and jumped and slashed his way around the circle, harnessing his natural elven agility, his fighter strength, and his dancer precision. The creatures fell to the ground one by one. He flung the gooey blood off his blade, then sheathed it so he could turn to the woman. 

He offered her a chivalrous hand and helped her to her feet. She was covered in mud, but she was still gorgeous. Fair and delicate and frightened. Laslow perhaps lingered with her hand for a moment too long as he said in a low, smooth voice, “You’ll have to forgive me, miss, for not realizing you were still in here a moment sooner. I would despair to live in a world without being able to look upon your beauty every day.” 

The woman looked down at Laslow’s hand. It was only the briefest of flickers in her eyes, but he knew what he was looking at. The gold ring he always wore. His wedding ring. She smiled but also tilted her eyebrows in concern and said, “Wouldn’t Lord Odin be upset to hear you speak like this to someone else?” 

Laslow did what he always did in these situations, which was to heave the heaviest and most obnoxious of sighs. For some reason, and he had no idea why, most people felt like since Laslow was married he wasn’t allowed to flirt anymore. None of these people, he liked to point out often, were Odin himself. After all, it wasn’t like he was actively seeking dates or intimacy with anyone. What was so wrong with a little flattery here or there? “Please don’t call him that, miss, he hasn’t earned a title yet and all you will do is cause his head to enlarge.” 

_Also, he’s not even here_ , Laslow thought with just a hint of bitterness alongside his mountain of worry. Odin had left a few months ago to train with an old mentor in their moment of peace between adventures. He had been due back the night before, but never showed up. Now Laslow was worried about him walking into the middle of a burning village, unarmed and unaware and off guard. 

They made their way through the torn streets of the village to where all the refugees were being evacuated. For some reason, the creatures wouldn’t break the border of the village, so everyone had been able to find solace in the forest surrounding their homes. They huddled there, still in shock after hours since the attacks began that morning, watching the destroyed homes smoulder and golems amble about, crashing and flipping things in a suspicious pattern. 

Laslow found Elise immediately and handed the woman he saved off to her. The creature had popped her shoulder out of place while tugging on her, but caused no other serious injuries. It was par for the course today. He hadn’t heard of any casualties of life. The worst he’d heard of was one man breaking his leg, but even he would heal and be fine in due time. 

“Who’s still missing?” Laslow asked Elise as she worked. 

“I think we got… Almost everyone.” She looked up at at the crowd of people gathering. “We’ve been taking a census. There were only four people missing… Now three. One is an older gentleman and the other two are the orphans.” 

Laslow knew about the orphans. Everyone knew about the orphans. A brother and a sister, ten and thirteen, who had lived on the streets of the village their whole lives. They didn’t belong to anyone, but at the same time they belonged to everyone. They were good children. 

“And Niles,” Elise said as an afterthought. As a warrior who only lived here part time, he didn’t count in the census apparently. “He’s in there too.” 

“I’m going back in,” Laslow said. 

Elise grabbed his arm. “Wait for Niles. Then you two can go back together if we’re still missing people.” 

Laslow didn’t like waiting while other people were fighting. But he didn’t have to wait long. Just a moment later, Niles emerged from the rubble of the village with a man’s arm slung over his shoulders. A woman yelled, “Father!” and ran to the man to help. 

Niles approached Elise and Laslow. He looked grim. “That was everyone I could find,” he said in a low voice. “I searched everywhere.” Niles was a pretty guarded person and Laslow didn’t know much about his past. But he knew that Niles, more than almost anyone in the village, had a particular affinity for those orphans. 

The people of the village, gathered and heartbroken, were murmuring. Some were smiling. The loss of the children was sad, but the fact that they had managed to evacuate everyone else with only those casualties was almost a miracle. No families were broken. It was a bittersweet victory as the village burned in front of them. 

Laslow stared at a new fire that sprung up near the exit of the village. He was going to rush in. He couldn’t be satisfied with 98% when lives, _young lives_ , were in danger. 

He took a total of two steps before he stopped. A figure rose into the sky from the flames. Backlit by the light of the flames and shrouded in smoke it was hard to identify at first. It was vaguely humanoid, but bulky, and hovered in the air on two large leathery wings. Laslow put his hand on the hilt of his sword and braced himself. It was gliding right for them. 

His grip slackened when it got closer. Yellow hair, Bronze scales that reflected the firelight. A triumphant grin hidden beneath a mountain of soot. And two children, one grasped in front and the other riding between the two inexplicable dragon wings. 

The group of villagers broke out into a raucous celebration. It was the most noise Laslow had hear them make since the initial panic earlier that morning when the attacks began. The orphans were unharmed and beaming from ear to ear as the villagers descended upon them to smother them with love. 

“Odin!” Laslow shouted, rushing toward his husband. Odin turned toward him, smiled, and then lifted his arms as if Laslow was going to rush in for a hug. He didn’t. He raised a hand and thumped Odin in the temple. “What the hell?!” 

He must have thought Laslow was referring to the wings, because he spread them boastfully. “Do you like them? I am learning new things about my legendary dragon bloodline all the time!” 

“Where were you?” Laslow asked. He _was_ curious about the wings, but they were further down on his priority list than maybe Odin wanted them to be. “You were supposed to be home yesterday.” 

Odin flung a hand out dramatically and flipped his head to the side. “A hero must always make a grand entrance!” he boomed. Laslow crossed his arms (partially to keep himself from thumping Odin again) and raised an eyebrow. The theatrical pose crumpled and Odin said, “A joke! In all seriousness, I got caught up in a little trouble of my own.” 

That’s when Laslow saw the gash on his upper arm. Odin twisted to give him a good view. It was wrapped up in some makeshift bandages that the blood had soaked all the way through. It _looked_ large, but it was also hard to discern any details with the bandage in the way. 

“It’s fine,” Odin reassured him. “It happened last night. I’m sure it’s almost healed. It doesn’t hurt at all.” 

“You should still go have the princess change the bandages,” Laslow said. 

Odin put his hand on Laslow's shoulder in reassurance and their eyes came together. Softly he said, “Laslow, I’m okay. We have much bigger things to worry about right now.” 

Laslow nodded. He trusted Odin’s strength. And ever since he almost went blind from sight rot, Odin had been a little bit more humble about his own health. If he said it was fine, then it probably was. It wouldn’t do any good to baby Odin when their home was still being ravaged by a mysterious plague of golems. 

“Tell me what you know,” Odin said as they turned to watch the pillaging. 

“Not much,” Laslow admitted. “They came early this morning, hoards of them. We’ve been fighting to evacuate the village all day. I have never seen golems like this. The villagers are calling them faceless because of the masks. Niles thinks the chains around their wrists mean that they’re slaves sent by someone to wreak havoc. But they haven’t killed anyone. They seem way more preoccupied with destruction of property. I think they might be looking for something.” 

A sudden gust of wind assaulted the crowd. People hunkered to the ground to maintain their balance. Laslow looked up, following the sound of slow moving wing beats. 

Laslow had seen one other dragon this close up before. He’d slayed it with his own sword. But that encounter had done nothing to prepare him for the monolithic creature that flew overhead now. It was _enormous_ and pitch black. It’s wings were tattered along the edges and yet it still soared easily over the wreckage of the village. Its mouth was gaping, stretching to the edges of its face and lined with teeth bigger than Laslow himself. Inside its mouth, instead of on its face, it had one, large, bulbous yellow eye swiveling chaotically this way and that. Searching. 

It ignored the destruction of the golems and found its perch on a tower on the furthest edge of town and overlooked the cliff that the village was built on. The tower was ancient and had been vacant until Laslow’s party had settled there a couple of years before he had even joined. It was his home now. The dragon dug its claws into the side of the tower and waited. 

“It’s huge,” came Elise’s voice from Laslow’s side. She sounded as mesmerized as he felt. 

“It’s ancient,” Odin corrected. “And black. Those are the most nefarious of the chromatic dragons.” 

The dragon was picking at the tower, almost delicately. Poking holes in the windows and peeking in with its manically swiveling eye. If the golems weren’t searching for something, it certainly was. The others must have noticed it too, because Niles turned a smirk toward them and said, “Let’s be good hosts and go find out what it wants.” 

\--- 

Laslow felt invincible. He felt like his own strength and the strength of his companions was unmatched. They had faced so many challenges and strong enemies. This was just another evil in their land that needed to be vanquished. The only thing that set it apart was that it had made the mistake of entering their territory of its own free will. 

Endorphins and adrenaline were waging their own silent war within Laslow as he fought back. The golems went down at the hands of his blade by the dozens. They were formidable in numbers, but with his team at his side he was unstoppable. Odin casting spells from behind, Elise keeping everyone strong and healthy, and Niles sneaking around to take out any stragglers that got in their way. They slowly but surely cut their way through the infected village toward their tower. 

Even though Odin was positioned behind Laslow as usual, Laslow found himself seeking him out. He was so confident in his own skills, he didn’t need to keep his eyes forward at all times. He glanced back after hearing Odin shout something, probably a spell name, and saw him grab a golem by the arms and shock it paralyzed. When the bright lights and the singed flesh smell dissipated, their eyes locked and Odin grinned. He was covered in sweat and gunk and filth. Laslow could practically smell him from where he was standing. And yet, he looked so handsome. 

It had been months since they’d seen each other. Months since they’d held each other, kissed each other, felt their bodies pressed together. Now, watching Odin glisten in the firelight of the crumbling village, his muscles, bare under his thin fancy clothes and strained with work, he almost salivated. It was rugged and sexy and he was a man with needs. Of course, it would have to wait a moment longer until they could vanquish the dragon. He channeled all of his desire into his blade and let out a victorious battle cry as the adrenaline pushed him forward. 

The foundation of the building was in jeopardy with the dragon perched on top. The heroes decided they had survived more trying environments, and scaled it to the top anyway. Niles fired his crossbow in greeting at the dragon’s neck and it lifted its head. It’s swiveling eye paused on them. 

“Who dares interrupt my search?” Its voice was deep and resounded around them without moving its mouth. A thick, sewage stench filled the air. “Is this a challenge from you puny creatures to me, Anankos the Black? Do you know who I am?” 

“We’d love to offer you some tea and get to know you, I’m sure,” Niles said, smug as ever. “But you kinda just knocked down the door and started tearing our house up. Did you learn your manners from livestock?” 

The dragon, Anankos’ eye erratically swiveled a few times before focusing on them again. “These dwellings belong to you? How fortunate. I will be more inclined to spare your life if you hand over the Luck Blade without hesitation.” 

The four adventurers exchanged looks of equal confusion. Anankos growled, and the sound reverberated through the floor under their feet, but they stood fast side by side. “Do not play me as a fool! I know you have it. There is no reality in which you lived on this spot without hearing legends of the sword that grants wishes, the Luck Blade. It was last seen in this area over 700 years ago. With its power, I shall finally have a means of conquering the realm! Hand it over.” 

Odin stepped forward. He was silent as he walked and looked up at the dragon with those dark, fearless eyes. “If there was a legendary weapon here, it would have called to me by now,” he boasted loudly. “What you seek is not here! Now leave in peace, or face my wrath!” On the last syllable, his dragon wings unfurled from his shoulder blades. His clothing, Laslow could now see from behind, had been modified to accommodate their easy retracting. 

Anankos reared back its head to make itself look taller (not that it needed to) as it observed this display. “You think you are an equal match for me? You, a human wearing stolen dragon magic like any other cloak? It is insulting.” 

“The dragon blood that courses through my veins is my birthright,” Odin said proudly. “Let us settle this and then you will see how mighty I truly I am!” 

Judging by Anankos’ flippant tone as he growled, “I do not have time for this,” he probably would have rolled his eye if it weren’t flickering side to side like a crazed bird. He ducked his head back down to the levels below the heroes, but not before leaving them with a dozen new flesh golems, spawned where they stood in a black mist. The only difference between these golems and the ones they had encountered in the village, was that they ran right for the heroes with an intent to attack. 

It was a little bit more difficult to dispatch a golem that was actively trying to rip you in half, but Laslow managed. He cut at the first one that came toward him a couple of times before he could get to its head. It thudded to the ground, dissipated in a black smoke, and then was replaced by a new, fresh golem. This happened three more times before Laslow noticed the pattern. 

“They’re not going to stop coming!” he shouted to his battling companions. They seemed to each be holding their own, but this new development had them grimacing. 

“If we annihilate the source of the magic,” Odin said, looking up at the figure of Anankos. “They will stop replicating.” 

“Odin, no,” Laslow said firmly, but Odin was already spreading his wings. He leapt into the air above the golem and turned to face Laslow just as a large splatter of blood fell from him to the ground. He was already too high up, Laslow couldn’t reach him. 

“I will strike from a distance,” Odin assured him with a wicked grin. His arm was bleeding and, all of the sudden, he looked a little pale. Just how bad was that gash? Had Elise even seen it yet? “I will be careful, my love, I swear to you. Today is not the day Odin Dark perishes.” 

Laslow wanted to be reassured, so he was. At least Odin was high in the air where the golems couldn’t get him. At least Anankos was bored with the adventurers and wasn’t paying attention. He could handle a gash in his arm. Laslow had seen him fight and knew that if Odin put all of his gusto in it, of which he had a lot, he could actually pull this off and win. 

Odin stretched out a clenched fist to the dragon who was not paying attention and boomed, “Witness the ache in my blood, vile beast! SUNBURST!” 

A blinding flash of light consumed Anankos and it roared in pain. It was impossible to see what was happening, but it appeared as though Odin had summoned a literal sun of his own with Anankos at its core. For a moment, the dark effects of night in the area faded away and everything was too bright. There was a crumbling sound beneath the roars, and as the light faded, the heroes were able to see Anankos fall, not only from the tower it was gripping, but the cliff itself. The golems around them, and the ones in the village below, vanished in puff of black smoke. 

Odin came back down to the ground and faced them. His dragon wings folded inward until they were gone again. Blood dripped down from his arm into a pool at his feet, but it didn’t matter. They would have time to heal him. He had won. In that moment, he looked so magnificent. He radiated. Laslow took a step forward, then another, eager to finally hold his husband, to finally celebrate not only his return but his victory. 

He stopped when a gust rushed across their feet. The sound of large, beating wings filled the air and then there it was, rising slowly from behind Odin. There was one clawed hand on the edge of the tower, then another this time with an unfamiliar golden hilted sword between two clawed toes. Its eye was gone, and instead its gaping jaw spread wide like a snake, showing off every row of sharp teeth. Smoke billowed out of either side of its mouth and black acid dripped down its lips. Its neck reared back, then pushed forward and it closed its mouth again with a deafening snap. 

It happened that quickly. One minute, Odin was standing there, bright and victorious and invincible. The next he was gone, leaving behind only a pool of blood to mark where he had been. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

The only thing more deafening than the celebration after rolling a twenty in DnD was the silence following a one. If twenties, as the best rolls in the game, brought good fortune; then ones, as the worst, brought terrible consequences. 

Owain looked grim. The others also looked grim, not quite as sick or pale as Owain suddenly did. It was making Inigo nervous but… How bad could this possibly be? He himself had cheated death once back when he still didn’t quite care about the outcome of the game. His experience so far was that the rules of DnD were pretty lenient in times like these. 

“Odin is dead,” Owain finally croaked. His voice was small and broken. 

“So you get to make death saving throws now, right?” Inigo asked. He smiled weakly, hoping to bring some light into the room. “It’s not over. Someone can still save you.” 

“I lost too many hit points from the acid in its mouth,” Owain explained. “It’s instant death.” 

“Instant death?” Inigo echoed, cold dread washing through his veins. 

“When the damage you take after zero exceeds the amount of maximum hit points you have, you die instantly,” Leo explained. “No death saving throws.” 

“So… Odin is…” 

“He’s dead,” Owain repeated. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to step out for a second. Please finish the session. I’ll wait for you, Inigo.” 

Owain stood up and exited the room swiftly and silently. It was much more controlled than when Inigo had stormed out awhile ago. He left a void behind as everyone grappled with their guilt. 

Finally, after a staggeringly awkward moment of reflection, Leo cleared his throat. “Actually, I think that’s a properly dramatic place to end tonight. We’ve been playing for a bit longer than we should have anyway. Everyone has long journeys home tomorrow. Get some shut eye. I’ll see you all in two days online.” 

Inigo didn’t linger. He said quick goodbyes to the three of them and burst from the game room. Owain was sitting on the couch in the living room when he emerged and he looked up slowly. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed his keys, Inigo’s hand, and led him out the door. When they got back to campus, he didn’t idle too long on their own goodbye. After all, he had a plane to catch first thing in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated for a long time on whether to a major character death warning was necessary on this fic, but I think it is. I invested way more time in the dnd-verse than i originally planned and it was ROUGH to write this so i can only imagine how hard it is to read lol anyway i'm changing that now. SORRY IF I RUINED YOUR LIFE LOL


	5. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY. I'M. SO. SORRY.  
> A short-time job came up that I had to focus all of my freetime on for a few weeks and this fic just... wasn't a priority. It really sincerely was not my intention to leave you hanging, especially the way I did. The urgency of that job sort of came out of no where and caught me by surprise. But I finished it and i'm trying to get back into the writing game!! I have two more chapters of this fic to crank out, and I'm gonna do them and I'm gonna (hopefully) do them in a timely manner! If you're still here, thank you so much. You're a champ and my hero. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm sorry if the writing is a little rusty. Please comment if you're still out there and, again, thank you so much you all mean so much to me ;A;
> 
> BY THE WAY if you want regular updates on my fic status (or my life in general) in the future, my twitter is @Lieano and I'm very active. Follow me maybe~ :3

“Have you spoken to Owain?”

“You mean today?” Inigo asked. “A couple of times, but he just went to sleep a little while ago. It sounds like he’s having a blast.” 

Inigo tried to appear cheerful enough. Owain had been gone for three weeks, and he missed him, obviously. But he didn’t want anyone to think that he wasn’t happy for Owain to be able to explore Europe as deeply as he was. And they talked every day. He couldn’t ask for much more. Couldn’t let on that he was even a little bit dissatisfied outside of any expected or natural heartache. 

“I don’t mean to sound as though I assume you aren’t speaking to each other,” Leo said. His gaze was distracted, drifting off to the side of his monitor away from his video camera. It was pretty clear, even through the internet that separated them, that he was struggling to maintain a comfortable level of small talk while they waited for Elise and Niles to join them. “I just wondered if you’d talked about anything other than his trip.” 

Leo was infuriatingly perceptive, even when he didn’t want to be. He scratched the itch and it was all Inigo could do not to let it bleed out everywhere. “Oh, you mean about DnD? No. No we haven’t talked about that at all…” Leo was silent. He still seemed distracted, but Inigo felt like he was waiting for more and he was a nervous talker. A dangerous combination. “I mean, I’m sure he’s just distracted by his trip, you know? I’ve brought it up a couple of times, completely on accident, and he always changes the subject. He’s distracted.” 

That wasn’t the whole story, of course. Owain wasn’t distracted, he was still freshly wounded and tender. Not only did Owain avoid the subject of Dungeons and Dragons entirely, he was acting like a different person. Someone far more melancholy than Owain usually was. He tried to fake his enthusiasm, but it was pretty clear when watching his face and his mannerisms that something wasn’t right. He was more like someone trying to do a bad, bashful impersonation of Owain than he was himself. 

“He’s not as obnoxious as he usually is,” Leo said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Inigo sighed. If he’d noticed it too, there was no point in not talking about it. As cold as Leo tried to act, he noticed when things were wrong with his friends. Maybe if they put their brains together, they could help. “His passion is just… gone.” 

Leo hummed thoughtfully. “I thought the trip would have been a good break to help him cope. Or that perhaps being around all of the medieval European history would inspire him to move forward, creatively speaking.” 

“Me too,” Inigo said wistfully. “I just wish there was something I could do. I feel useless, like I stole his hobby and I’m hoarding it all for myself when he can’t enjoy it anymore.” 

Leo nodded, his eyebrows knotted in serious contemplation as he agreed. But Inigo blushed a little. He hadn’t intended to be that candid. He was surprised at how quickly he’d come to feel relaxed and comfortable with his new Krakenberg friend group. 

“Other than be patient and supportive, I don’t think there’s anything we can do. He’s never played another character besides Odin. He spent three years with that character, and he’s mourning it as if he just lost a pet.” 

“If only there was a way to bring Odin back,” Inigo said quietly. “There’s magic and stuff in DnD, why isn’t that a thing?” 

“Well, technically, it is. Too bad you didn’t class Laslow as a wizard; you could have tried your hand at necromancy.” 

Inigo could tell by the way that Leo chuckled as he spoke that he was kidding. But his ears still prickled and his chin lifted as he processed the sentence. “Necromancy? That’s real?” 

Leo shrugged. “It’s a school of magic. Necromancers can raise the dead to use in battle. Now that I think about it, I guess you’ve never encountered one before.” 

“But they exist?” Inigo asked, only half-aware that his excitement was visibly climbing. “I can find one and _potentially_ bring Odin back to life?” 

Leo sighed and even though Inigo could literally hear his exasperation with where this conversation had gone, he couldn’t be bothered to adjust his attitude to accommodate it. “Do whatever you think you can get away with, I guess. I can’t tell you where you set your goals.” 

It was a non-committal response. Leo could decide or not decide to ever throw a necromancer in his way. Therefore it was _completely necessary_ to win him over if Inigo was going to see this plan through. But for now he ignored the lack of outside enthusiasm and instead focused on the potential. Raising dead things was a real thing in the DnD universe. There was hope. Death was not the end. He just had to find someone that studied this particular version of magic and then Owain would be much more excited about coming back to play. 

He had three weeks. Inigo had a plan, Laslow had a task, and they had three weeks to make it happen. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

The first wish Anankos made was to cover the world in a swamp. The ratio of land and sea on the planet was completely rewritten. Entire species of creatures depleted instantly without their proper habitats, while few others thrived. Crocodiles started to gather in hordes and terrorize civilizations. Poisonous amphibians covered the wetlands like a plague. Large city structures and paved roads were overcome with moss, ruining any advancement humankind had been on the brink on in one evening. Nearly everyone on the planet was now a refugee with no way to stay and no where to go. 

Laslow’s party managed to get most of their town’s population out of their crumbling home alive. They traveled far, as far away from the tower where Anankos had made his first wish as they could. 

They found a structure that wasn’t submerged in muddy land nor near any crocodile infested shores. Almost everything was covered in overgrowth, except parts of the marble floor. It was an incredibly lucky find, probably one of the most habitable places on the planet at the moment. Most likely one of the last. 

There were stacks of damp books all over the floors and walls, indicating that it perhaps used to be a library. They set up a fire to keep dry and unwillingly fueled it with the remnants of humanity. Here, they managed to keep the invading environment away. 

With the skills between Laslow, Niles and Elise, they had saved more than probably most other settlements, but it was impossible to reach out and find out if anyone was still out there. Elise was worried about unsanitary living and disease. Niles was worried about the possibility of poisonous predators finding them. Laslow didn’t know what to do at all. 

He was still mourning. When making their escape he had been distracted, but now that they were settled and relatively safe he had only his broken heart to keep him company. It was so quiet in the library. The silence shouted at him everywhere he went, reminding him who was not there to fill it. He felt bullied and beaten by the empty spaces at his side. Now that his people were safe, he needed a new distraction. So he got to work making a graveyard. 

He found some stones, cleared away the moss inevitably growing on them, and began carving the names of the people they had lost on their journey. Every time he finished one, he would seek out someone connected to the lost person and they would have a little ceremony. People started coming to him with names of those he hadn’t known well enough to know they were gone. By the end of the first week, he had over a dozen headstones outside their ruined library. And there was only one more to make. 

He worked on it slowly, dreading the lack of work waiting for him when it was done and cursing himself for saving it for last. He would surely be overcome with emotion, sitting in the graveyard in front of his husband’s tombstone with nothing calling him away from it. Fortunately, Elise saved him when he was almost finished carving a design around the edges of the rock. 

“Some of the books are still legible,” she said one day, sitting gently beside Laslow on the grass in front of the rock. It didn’t have a name on it yet, but surely she knew who it was for. He gave her his full attention to assure her that her interruption was welcomed. 

“That’s good, it’ll give the children something to do. And the people something to hold on to.” 

Elise nodded and smiled. “Of course! And, also, I found something particularly interesting. A book that mentions the Luck Blade.” 

Laslow sat up straight, his heart pounding. He recognized the twinkle in Elise’s eye now, a glimmer of optimistic hope. “What did it say?” 

Elise held out a tome in her hands and said, “This is a record of several legendary items that were made by a secret order of wizards a long time ago. The Luck Blade was one of them. They made these items and then hid them in five different places all over the world. Our tower was apparently one of the hiding places. One of the Five Towers of High Sorcery. The knowledge of these towers must have been lost for centuries, or the wizards were very good secret keepers. We had no idea we were living on a treasure trove of magical items. And look, there are some pictures in here of the wizards that formed the order.” 

Elise flipped to a page she had dog-eared and pointed to a few sketches of people. They were old and smudged, but very detailed drawings. Each picture had a little biography of the wizard beside it. Laslow scanned them with interest, but nothing stuck out to him. He felt like she was waiting for him to come to some obvious conclusion, but all he saw were wizards that were probably long dead and of no use to their situation now. 

“That’s amazing Elise, but did it say anything about the Luck Blade? Like did it mention if it had any weaknesses or…” 

Elise shook her head. “Not in this volume. And I can’t find any others. They might be in the ruined shelves or we already burned them. But I have an idea…” She was beaming with excitement. “The wizard that created the Luck Blade was this woman.” She pointed to a female wizard who was labeled as student of divination magic. 

“She’s lovely,” Laslow said. 

Elise nodded. “She is. And she married a necromancer who was also in the order.” 

Laslow’s heart unexpectedly leapt in his chest. He had heard of necromancers, though he was pretty sure he had never met one. An idea was forming in the corner of his brain and he struggled to grasp it as Elise kept talking. 

“They had a baby, it’s listed in this book. An elf, so he’s probably pretty old but I bet he’s still alive. And who does this necromancer look like to you?” Elise asked with a little slyness in her voice as she pointed to the picture. 

Laslow’s breathe caught in his throat when he saw the picture. There was no mistaking it. The wizard he had house-sat for so long ago, the same grumpy man who had attacked his wedding. He knew that wizard. The son of the creator of the Luck Blade. 

And also a necromancer. 

A light flickered on in Laslow’s head. He knew what he had to do. 

“Get Niles,” Laslow said as he stood up. “We’ll track him down at once.” Then he turned and walked away from the stone he had been carving into, leaving it nameless. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

“Haggis sounds literally terrible,” Inigo said into his computer screen. “You are stronger than I am for even thinking about eating it.” 

“It was good!” Owain argued, bouncing in his seat. Even over the camera, he was radiating. Inigo wanted to kiss him, even if he did taste like sheep innards. “It brought me closer to this old Scottish shepherd who then told me his entire life story! An epic tale involving adventure and camaraderie and treasure hunting! I think it would make a very interesting book later.” 

“You’re the only person who could think eating sheep guts while listening to an old man talk is fun. So I’m glad it’s you who’s there instead of me,” Inigo said sarcastically. But he genuinely meant it. Owain was positively glowing. His demeanor was completely different now from how it had been a few weeks ago, and Inigo had Scotland to thank for it. Something about the culture and the landscape had rekindled the inspiration in Owain’s eyes. It was intoxicating to watch, but Inigo’s fingers were itching to grasp it and feel spark he knew was there, vibrating under Owain’s skin. Fortunately, this was Owain’s family’s last stop on their trip across Europe. They would be back in a few days. 

“I’ve been having fun this whole trip,” Owain said. His voice was suddenly quiet. He didn’t look right at the camera. He was off in a world that Inigo couldn’t even dream of traveling too. “But Scotland… It’s been more than just fun. It’s been… This is going to sound childish, perhaps, even for me, but there is no other word to describe it. It’s been magical.” 

Inigo listened with a little smirk on his lips as Owain slipped in a dramatic description of the Scottish Highlands. The hills and the water and the vast emptiness. The cold weather and the castle ruins and the intangible yet unmistakable magic that he felt all around him. He felt validated by those hills. He spoke with a vigor and a passion that had been missing since the last day of school. Inigo listened and watched and fell in love with his boyfriend all over again. Three days was too long. 

“I’m going to show it to you one day, Inigo,” Owain finally concluded. “If not within the next year, then very soon after because we are going to get married here. In a castle on a loch.” 

Inigo nodded. It sounded nice, but then again doing anything with Owain right now sounded nice. Six weeks had been a _long_ time. He was having a hard enough time listening to Owain’s long winded prose about nature without spacing out to focus on how his neck muscles flexed and twitched on the other side of the screen. It was colder in Scotland than it had been literally anywhere else in Europe. He was wearing too many clothes and Inigo could only distantly remember other parts of his body that he couldn’t see. It was all he could think about. 

With a huff, Owain fell out of his spell and looked at the camera, right through Inigo’s soul, giving him his full attention. Inigo felt his heart lodge in his throat under that gaze. “My apologies, darling, I got lost in myself. Tell me how your summer has been so far. I’ve been gone for six weeks, I need to get caught up here soon. How’s DnD going?” 

It took Inigo a couple of seconds to process the question. Owain had asked about DnD? Really? And he didn’t look particularly heartbroken or forlorn. He looked excited, eager, even happy. The regular kind of happy, not a fake kind. 

“It’s been… okay,” Inigo started slowly, testing the waters as he talked. “I mean, it’s been a little wild. That dragon has fucked everything up. Turned the whole world into a swamp. And Laslow is messed up. It’s been hard for him… Without Odin…” 

Inigo tried not to look like he was gauging Owain’s reaction. He waited patiently for a response while keeping a secret eye on Owain’s gaze, waiting for any sign of depression. If there was one, it was lost to the lag in their video connection. “That sounds cool! I mean, not the… messed up part, but the swamp thing. Leo is a genius. Are you still having fun? I feel bad for sort of dragging you into it and then abandoning you for six weeks.” 

Inigo perked up. “Of course I am. I’m having a blast.” He took a deep breath then said, “It’ll be more fun, though, when you get back and can play again. You are right? I mean, you don’t have to, not right away but-“ 

Owain chuckled and Inigo stopped rambling. “Of course I’m going to play again. I’ve been talking to Leo the past couple of days and… I think we worked something out. I’m going to join your session in a few days, actually, right before my flight back.” 

He was being vague, but Inigo jumped to a conclusion immediately. He didn’t need to be told. Owain could pretend like he had a surprise up his sleeve all he want. But if he had worked something out with Leo that could only mean one thing… 

The necromancy plan to raise Odin from the dead was a go. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

It was difficult to travel through a world entirely made up of overgrown wetlands. It took considerably longer to get from point A to point B than the seasoned adventurers were used to. They had a ranger on their team which was usually a blessing when it came to navigating wilderness, but Niles had done most of his training in the Underdark and hadn’t been in a swamp for any prolonged amounts of time in his adult life. Needless to say, the journey to where it had all begun for Laslow was a treacherous one. And when they finally got there, they were greeted with nothing but a vast, uninhabited marsh 

“At least there’s no water right here,” Niles said as he got to work pulling apart a thicket of vegetation in the exact location where the wizard’s house had once stood. He used a small dagger to slice through the thick brush and pull aside the tangled vines. 

“What are you doing?” Laslow asked. He was frustrated. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to find, since the last time he had been here the house had burned to the ground. Maybe he was assuming the wizard had rebuilt. But even if that was the case, there had been no guarantee it would have survived Anankos’ apocalypse. Still, it was their only lead and Niles’ fidgeting was making it hard to think of a new one. 

“There was a trap door that led to a basement,” Niles explained without stopping his work. “When the red dragon burned this place to the ground, there was an untouched storage room down there. It was actually a neat little bunker. I wouldn’t be surprised if it survived all of this.” 

That was, of course, all it took to convince Laslow. He made a note to apologize for his attitude later and wordlessly got to work clearing away the swamp environment with his own blade. 

It was a heart stopping moment when the trap door finally popped out of all the vegetation. The three adventurers surrounded the damaged, but sealed stone door. They exchanged looks, then broke the lock and pulled it up. 

It was dark and dank descending into the wizard’s storage room. The humidity of the swamp made it hard to breathe all over the world, but this place was especially musty. Coming in from the daytime, especially a rare piece of land that wasn’t overshadowed by trees so that the sunlight had access to where they’d been, their eyes had it rough adjusting in the basement. Even Laslow, who had a natural affinity for dark places, didn’t see the wizard move out of the shadows toward him until he was on his back. 

“I’m not taking any refugees,” the wizard hissed in Laslow’s ear. He smelled horrible. Laslow wondered when the last time was he’d had some of the fresh air lingering above his hide away. 

After just a blink, a knife was at the wizard’s throat. “Whoa there old man, we’re not sticking around,” Niles hissed, blessedly coaxing him away from Laslow’s face. He took a gulp of thick air. “We just want some answers.” 

“It’s… You…” the wizard sad, finally processing who his visitors were, looking between their faces. “I don’t have anything to do with this situation. What could you possibly want from me?” 

Elise took the book out from her bag and flipped to the page that showed the two wizards they believed to be his parents. She pointed to them. “Anankos made a wish on a magical blade that this wizard created,” she said pointing to the diviner. “Do you know her?” 

Realization dawned on the wizard like a gentle wave. With Niles’ knife slackened, he stood up and walked across his room, shuffling around for something in a pile of belongings. To still have so many of his possessions in good quality was a miracle. It certainly wasn’t something he should take for granted. He pulled out a scroll, unprotected and still in good health. 

“My mother created the Luck Blade and then a month later had a premonition about it,” he explained. “A premonition about Anankos, the black dragon who would first turn the world into a swamp, then create a disease that would wipe out survivors. And his third wish… It would destroy existence as we know it. 

“She knew that she couldn’t let this come to pass, so she hid the blade in one of the five towers. She knew that hiding it might not be enough, though, so she created a second item. Something guaranteed to destroy a dragon should simply hiding the blade ever prove to be futile. It’s call the Orb of Dragonkind.” 

He handed the scroll to Elise who unfurled it. Laslow leaned over her shoulder and took in the image of a black orb, painted to look as though it were swirling with some dark matter. The details of the item were written on the page. It claimed that the orb would aid in destroying a dragon within range by trapping its soul within it forever. 

“Where is this orb?” Elise asked. She looked excited, bouncing on her heels and crinkling the edges of the paper. If this orb really existed, they had a real shot at taking down Anankos before he could make any other heinous wishes. 

“Mother hid it where she hid the luck blade,” the wizard said, looking suddenly very tired. “In the same tower. In the hopes that a hero would be able to find it before an evil wish was made.” 

Elise, Niles and Laslow all exchanged a look. The same tower. Their tower, their home, at the center of the swamp world. It would be dangerous, but they had to go back. 

Elise rolled the scroll up and threw it in her bag with book. “Thank you so much,” she said to the wizard as Niles started the climb out of the basement. “You will be remembered for saving the world.” 

She started the climb too and halfway up the step ladder turned to Laslow, who hesitated. “Are you coming?” 

“In a second,” Laslow said. “Go on up, there’s one more thing I want to talk to him about. Privately.” Elise nodded, trusting her friend, and was gone. Laslow turned on the wizard, who suddenly looked mildly afraid. 

“Your mother was a diviner, but your father was a necromancer, wasn’t he?” he asked, getting straight to the point. “My husband died trying to protect the world from Anankos. Do you... know of any magic that can bring him back?” 

The wizard looked crestfallen for a moment. He had interrupted their wedding and tried to kill Odin himself. But perhaps the weight of what had happened with the ancient dragon had changed him. He sighed and turned back to his shelf of clutter, digging around. 

“If there is anything remaining of him, you can use this.” He turned back to Laslow and handed him a small vial filled with an inky black substance. Laslow took it and forced himself to think about the last time he had seen Odin. Standing triumphantly on the roof of their tower one moment, and completely devoured in the next. Not even a toe had been left behind. But a large splatter of blood had been. 

“If you use it, heed this warning. He will not be the same man that left this plane. He may not be the man you want,” the wizard said ominously. 

Laslow closed his fist around the vial and then tucked it safely in his pocket where he was sure his friends would not find it. “I don’t care,” he said solemnly. “I have to try.” 

\--- 

The bog that had consumed their home was more difficult to traverse than any other mutated landscape they had survived so far. The green of land was almost indistinguishable from the green of water, both in color and the way they grabbed at trespassers’ feet, sucking them into mud and soaking them through boots and pants. 

Laslow, Elise and Niles moved slowly across the terrain. It dipped up and down inconsistently and they often had to reroute their path around a small body of water. There didn’t seem to be any living creatures in the very near area. No crocodiles or poisonous frogs or anything of that sort. There was an unusually high volume of bugs, but they were little threat. It seemed as if no one, not even thriving fauna, not even Anankos himself, had come to this spot since the day the world turned into a swamp. 

The tower that Laslow had called a home before the apocalypse stood at the edge of the cliff that the once-sleepy village lived on. It was just a single tower, once ruins, that the adventurers had repurposed into a base and a home with bedrooms and meeting rooms and a library and all sorts of other common amenities. Now it was a giant green mossy pillar, jutting out of the haggard land, a ruin of past civilization once again. 

“It’s still standing,” Niles said as they came to a stop at the base of the tower. “So that’s the first win of the day. Now here’s hoping it still stable enough for us to explore.” 

“We should split up,” Laslow said, his eyes on the roof of the tower and his heart on one very specific goal. “I’ll go up.” 

“The Luck Blade was found in the basement,” Elise said, looking worried. “I… Could be wrong, but I wouldn’t be surprised if all the other items hidden here were there too.” 

“Just in case,” Laslow said, and he forced a smile to reassure her. “We need to work quickly, especially if the tower starts to crumble with us in it. We don’t want to be wrong.” 

Niles nodded. “That blade was right under our noses and we had no idea. Who knows what else was hidden throughout this thing.” Laslow resisted sighing in relief. “I’ll go with Elise to the basement. You go explore the rest of the tower. Be quick and be safe.” 

“You too,” Laslow said, and then took off. 

His heart was pounding as he climbed the stairs of his decrepit home. He felt bad for misleading his friends, tricking them into letting him go the roof. But they wouldn’t understand. Laslow didn’t know much about necromancy, except that it was incredibly frowned upon. And Elise was a cleric, a holy servant of a god. What would she think of him if she knew? 

It was hard walking through spiral staircases that were overrun with vines and slippery moss and nests of bugs. It took some time and when Laslow finally broke through the door to the roof he gasped in the fresh air eagerly 

For a moment, Laslow couldn’t move. He stood at the top of the immediate world. The swamp spread out in all directions around him. He had once stood up here with Odin, watching the river below their cliff reflect the stars, listening to the sounds of the forest with a bustling kingdom on the horizon. Now the castle that ruled that kingdom was a mound of earth, the river was gone, and decaying vegetation covered every inch of ground he could see. It was horrible. His eyes prickled with tears at the sight of what had become of his world. 

To his grim surprise, the roof of the tower was completely covered in flat moss, except in one spot. A patch of red stained stone. Laslow approached it slowly, then knelt and ran his fingers along the last biological remains of his husband. 

He took a deep breath as he extracted the vial from his pockets. The sound of the cork popping out was the only thing he could hear over his heartbeat in his ears. The thick, black liquid slowly trickled out of the vial and onto the stain. Laslow could scarcely breathe as it did. 

After a moment of frightful hesitation, after the vial had been emptied, Laslow jumped and moved away from the splatter. He turned his back to it, put his face into his hands, and wept. The magic probably needed time to settle, but waiting for it was excruciating. Even though it was barely a minute that he stood there crying, waiting, he wondered if it would work and he feared what might go wrong if it did. He tried to push those thoughts out of his head and instead focused on his memory of Odin. 

Smiling, bright, loud and excited. He had always worked so hard, had saved so many people and done so many brave things. And yet he was young and still growing all the time. The dragon wings Laslow had last seen him flying around with were new, something he had earned while he was away training, perhaps. Laslow hadn’t had time to ask him about it, but he imagined Odin soaring among the sun and the clouds and the stars, where he belonged. Laslow wanted to fly up there with him. He wanted Odin to embrace him, strong as he was short, and take him into the sky, surrounded by only the sounds of each other and the beating of small magical dragon wings- 

Wing beats. Laslow heard them, suddenly. It took him a moment to realize that they weren’t his delusion, but in fact a real noise coming from behind. His heart leapt and started thudding violently in his ribs. He was shaking. Had it worked? Was Odin behind him? Hovering by his wings and smiling, waiting to embrace him and help save the world? Laslow wiped the tears from his face as best he could, and turned. 

The person behind Laslow met so many requirements on the checklist of things he knew about Odin. Bronze dragon wings, bronze scales scattered around like freckles, blonde hair as bright as the sun, dramatic clothes and a long black cape. 

But it was not Odin. It was a girl… And a half elf. Slightly taller than the average human with ears pointed out half as far as a full-blooded elf. She had slightly darker skin than Odin too; it was copper, a lot like Laslow’s. In her hands was a large black orb that she cradled gently. 

Laslow’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know what to think, let alone say. The girl landed in the center of Odin’s blood stain and held Laslow in place with an intense gaze. 

“Are you the warrior known as Laslow of the Indigo Skies?” 

Laslow swallowed. His anxiety bit the whole way down his throat. Only one person had ever called him by that full title. “Yes,” he managed to croak. “Who are you?” 

Suddenly, the intense aura surrounding the girl shifted and she smiled. There was still a passionate electricity to it, but it gave off the aura of excitement instead of trepidation. There was a brightness in her that he recognized. A determination and spirit that was so rare, one that he cherished so much. His eyes welled again with tears as the girl boldly declared, “My name is Ophelia Dusk. I’m your daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this unnamed wizard i keep bringing back is a tribute to all NPC’s that dm’s don’t develop enough and then they end up getting way more speaking lines than planned. A lieano in a different time, one with much more planning and forethought, knew that that wizard was gonna be a big deal and picked a canon FE character to play the roll BUT THAT’S NOT THE UNIVERSE WE LIVE IN SORRY.


	6. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'm so sorry for the delays. ;A; We have one chapter left. We're so close to the end! I've gotten a lot of really cool and sweet comments and I know some really rad people are reading and enjoying this so I'm doing my best to get chapters out for you. Thank you for bearing with me!! Again, you can always check up on my twitter @lieano, I sometimes tweet when i'm writing or expecting a new chapter to come out. Thank you so much, again!!!

“A ‘deep realm’? Is that in the book?”

“It’s not in the book,” Leo sighed. He looked more exhausted than usual. “Owain wanted his next character to be Odin’s daughter. I was fine with that, but he couldn’t play an infant, so I made up the deep realm. It’s a different plane outside of the regular time stream. After Ophelia was created, Odin took her there and dropped her off.” 

“That’s why even though she was just born while Odin was away training, she’s already 18 and she’s the same level Odin was when he died.” Owain beamed. Even through the pixels on his computer, Inigo could tell he was glowing. “What were mere days to everyone else were years to the young sorceress!” 

“Okay,” Inigo said, chuckling to himself. Owain had been waiting SO LONG to spring this twist on them. It was obvious he was proud of it. Inigo didn’t want to step on his excitement by pointing out just how convenient the whole idea was. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t above a _little_ teasing. “Fine, fair. But it doesn’t explain _how_ she was born. Which is what I’m the most curious about, to be honest. How did my character create a child with his male partner without any idea about it?” 

Owain’s grin didn’t waver and he did not hesitate on his response. He had thought of everything. “Magic! Just before he left, Odin stole a lock of Laslow’s hair while he slept. Then, as part of his magical training he combined the DNA in that hair with his own to create a living person! An heir that was the perfect blend of who he considered to be the two most powerful warriors in the world!” 

“So she’s… a clone?” Inigo asked. 

“How romantic,” Niles purred. 

“Of course, that’s the point!” Owain shouted triumphantly. “Magical cloning has never been successful before. The key element was the true love shared between-” 

“I wouldn’t question it if I were you,” Leo interjected. “There was only so much of this we could retcon logically. I wasn't planning on Odin dying. The existence of a half-elf love child was not something we had put any thought into before this moment, or it would make more sense. And probably not be as big a surprise to Laslow. And maybe I wouldn’t have had to invent a baby microwave or incredibly convenient cloning magic. Not all of my plot lines can be perfect. Just use your imagination.” 

“I like her,” Elise said, bouncing in her seat. “That was a neat twist, Owain.” 

Owain puffed out his chest. “At least someone appreciates my greatness.” 

Inigo appreciated what Owain had done, of course, he just didn’t want to admit it over a conference call with all his friends. He wanted to tell Owain in person that he thought he was a genius. 

Leo was right, no one was planning on Odin dying. No one had planned to replace his character with someone similar enough for him to have fun again, yet different enough to be a new challenge. Odin’s training arc had been just that, training. But using gaps in the timeline, Owain had managed to fit in a whole story arc where he’d created a new life. He’d been intending to rush back and tell Laslow about it, but he’d heard about Anankos’ impending attack. With Leo’s permission, Owain had re-written Odin’s backstory to include knowledge of the Tower of Sorcery and the items held within. In fact, that’s why Odin had settled at that tower in the first place and built his adventuring party a base there long before Laslow had even joined. He was a protector with a secret ancient duty bestowed on him by his dragon ancestors to protect the ‘hoard’, as it was. He took Ophelia to the deep realm, waiting for her to get old enough to pass down his wisdom and some instructions should he not return, and then left her there to keep her safe while he rushed back his village where he had met his demise 

It was was interesting and exciting even with its clearly rushed structure. Owain’s imagination was so beautiful. Inigo stared at his pixels on the other side of the computer and couldn’t wait for him to come home. 

“Now, if there are no more questions, and please don’t ask any more questions, can we get back to the adventure? I’m sure Owain has a plane to catch, we don’t have forever,” Leo grumbled. 

“Yes!” Owain shouted enthusiastically, leaning forward to focus. “Ophelia’s blood aches with the power of her father and the generations before her! Do not hold her back any longer, lest you feel the wrath of this young bronze-hearted sorceress!” 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

The second wish was, as the late divination wizard predicted, a disease. 

A poisonous miasma blanketed the already decaying world. Anything that was left of civilization, groups of people that had managed to stay together and find shelter, finally crumbled. The symptoms fed on contact with other people. Distance and solitude were the only sanctuary. Clerics and healers that were normally adept at crushing disease could stave it off for a short period of time, but long exposure to more than five people would eventually override even their powers. All they could do, where they were able, was give people time to run. And most populations didn’t even have that chance. The rapidly decreasing survivors became even more spread out across the already hard to navigate landscape. 

It was just a guess, but judging by the span of time between the first wish and the second one, Laslow and his party theorized that Anankos had to wait a full moon cycle between his wishes. If they were correct, and they prayed that they were, they had some time before his last potentially world destroying wish. They had to find their silent overlord and trap him in the Orb of Dragonkind quickly if they wanted to salvage what had been destroyed already. 

Ophelia had already attuned the Orb of Dragonkind to her soul, rendering her the only one able to harness its power unless she was killed. So even if they didn’t believe her story about being Odin’s daughter sent on a sacred duty to finish what he started, they sort of had their hands tied and had to take her along. But there really wasn’t much to disbelieve. Elise checked her for cloaking magic just incase she was faking her appearance, and she wasn’t. She truly resembled Odin in so many ways, it was almost eerie. 

Elise and Niles accepted that, with the world on the brink of destruction, the mysteries of her existence could plague them later. Laslow vocalized his agreement, but privately clung to some anxiety about it. His necromancy hadn’t worked, and yet when he looked to his side there was a younger, female, but otherwise only slightly altered version of Odin walking beside him. A dull ache filled his heart. 

There was, of course, one other reason the party was coerced into enlisting Ophelia for help. She was the only one among them with even a semblance of a plan. 

“Have you been to the swamp yet?” she asked the three adventurers the morning they were due to set out on their world-saving quest. They sat around a dying campfire in the ruins of their tower, the only shelter for miles. All three of them looked out of one of the busted windows at the grey-green world beyond before returning their confused looks back to her. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean the plague that grips the world, I mean an old, authentic swamp. When I was a baby, the world was made up of many different ecosystems, and swamps were one of them.” 

“When you were a baby,” Laslow echoed, his eyes narrowing. 

She nodded. “From your perspective, I was born only a couple of months ago. But Father knew about the impending attacks from Anankos, and he knew he would need me to fight by his side. So he took me through a gate to another plane of existence where time was different. It was called the Deep Realm. He left me with instructions, of course, should he not return within a specific span of time, to leave the Deep Realm and seek you out. He also left me all of his knowledge of this world and its impending doom. I spent a lot of time studying maps of the old world and-” 

Ophelia continued to talk, ever as long winded as her alleged father before her. Laslow found himself zoning out as she continued, stuck on her use of the world ‘baby’ and her continued references to ‘her father’ and also her face. 

There was so much about her face for him to absorb. She looked like Odin, but she looked a lot like himself too. She had Odin’s wild blonde hair and round gemstone eyes but Laslow’s pointed nose and high cheekbones. She was covered in marks of her bronze dragon lineage but was also tall, thin and dark like any other average wood elf. She was probably his daughter. And even if she was lying and this was all a cruel joke, he wondered how much he would care. Deep in his wounded heart, he was starting to want it to be true. 

He and Odin had talked about kids. Of course, with Odin gone he had given up that idea. Needless to say he wasn’t expecting a full grown child to show up out of nowhere without his knowledge. He imagined her as a baby in a different plane of existence, imagined (albeit a little bitterly) Odin raising her through her infant and toddler years by himself. He wondered what she had looked like, what her first words were, when she had started to walk. He’d missed it all. She was a stranger to him but… the dull ache in his heart exploded and he suddenly desperately longed to have her in his life now that he knew she was here. 

Ophelia, finally finished with her theory, paused to take a breath. Laslow had missed most of it. Something about Anankos’ lair and extreme danger and the orb. She had laid out a whole plan. He had to act like he knew what it was until he could put the pieces together and not let anyone know he had been spacing off. 

“As long as I can get within range, I can destroy Anankos in one fatal blow with this orb!” Ophelia proclaimed, posing with the black sphere dramatically. 

“Well damn, sweetheart,” Niles said after a moment's pause. “You’ve got all the knowledge. You’ve got all the power. It sounds like you have everything figured out. And you have the orb. Do you even need us?.” His tone was dripping with cruel sarcasm. 

Ophelia’s eyes grew wide. “What? Of course I need you! I’ve spent my whole life dreaming about traveling with my father’s comrades and-” She stopped suddenly and looked at Laslow. In her eyes was a fear and a pain that he recognized through some latent parental instinct as a child asking for help. He invented memories of her scraping her knee or breaking a toy and wailing for help. Memories of her as an infant, crying because she was hungry or dirty or just wanted to be held. She was grown now, but she was still a child. His child. 

“Niles,” he said authoritatively. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t pick on my d-daughter.” Mostly authoritatively, at least. 

She smiled at him and for the first time since the day his husband passed away, Laslow saw light filter into his world. He didn’t know what the plan was, strictly speaking, but he knew it would take a back seat to ensuring Ophelia’s safety. 

\--- 

Laslow thought he had seen it all as far as swamps were concerned. But when they got to the place that Ophelia theorized was Anankos’ hiding place, even he was shocked. Niles had referred to is as ‘the place that was a swamp before it was cool’. What he meant was that it had been a swamp even before the apocalypse. Ophelia had theorized that this would mean that it was even swampier than usual… And she was right. It was so dark and dank that Laslow didn’t even know if he was still above ground. 

They snuck as much as they could, but as four humanoids traveling through this ultimate swamp, they stuck out like a sore thumb. Enormous crocodiles and enlarged bugs attacked them at every turn. Laslow, Elise and Niles were _used_ to battling these creatures by now, but Ophelia was _good_ at it. Almost as if she had been trained to fight swamp monsters her whole life. Her lightning powers elegantly and effortlessly crackled between foes taking out hordes of them at once. She soared through the drooping branches and skimmed over the green marshy waters with her dragon wings, dodging their rebuttals. She looked like a bronze swamp fairy in her height of glory. 

Laslow struggled between equally intense bouts of pride and worry as he watched her. She showed a fervent abandonment of caution that resembled her human father a little too much. And Laslow was keenly aware of how that particular life had ended. He made a point to keep an eye on her reckless theatrics even when he was engaged in battles himself. 

Finally, after a couple of days of traveling slowly through the Uber Swamp (as Ophelia had deemed it), they came upon a cave. The bare, gray stone was a sight for sore eyes. It rumbled with the movement of life from deep inside. Anankos was home. It was show time. 

Ophelia paused outside the cave, puffed out her chest in a dramatic inhale of air and said, “Well, comrades, we are here. When we leave this cave, after we have defeated that vile beast, we will be real heroes. True, no one may know our names yet, and perhaps they never will. But what we accomplish today will be so grand, they will not have to write songs for us to know that we have done well.” 

“Oh boy, you sure are Odin’s daughter,” Niles said with a short snicker. 

Laslow glared at him as Ophelia coughed into her hand a little, acquired a dash of pink across her cheeks, and continued. “Speaking of my father, this was what he created me to do. My purpose is in that cave. But when this is all over and we four emerge, alive and triumphant, I hope it is not the end. I hope we can continue to travel together. There will be so much to do to repair our broken world and I hope after I have proven myself to you by slaying this evil dragon, we can do it together.” 

Elise lunged forward with her tiny body and grabbed one of Ophelia’s hands. She was startled, but soon the two girls were grinning at each other. “Oh, Ophelia, you don’t have to prove anything. I already trust you and I look forward to traveling with you. It’s a dream worth fighting for,” she said, her eyes welling up against her smile. 

Ophelia nodded and looked up at Laslow. Her eyes were watering too, but her expression beyond that was determined. She was strong and fierce and had the lightning in her to get this job done. He nodded back, not sure exactly which words would suffice for this moment. He just made a promise in his heart to keep an eye on her during this battle. 

“Okay, before everyone starts crying, let's get this show on the road,” Niles finally grunted. “If everyone sticks to the plan, we’ll be out of here before breakfast.” 

Oh crap, Laslow thought in a heart sinking instant, wrenched from the trepidatious glee of the moment. The plan. He didn’t really know what it was. He hoped he could fake it. It probably involved fighting. He was pretty good at that. 

Sure enough, when the adventurers got too far into the cave, they were met with a wall of the green flesh golems they had fought so long ago in their village before it was upended into a swamp. The ‘Faceless’. Anankos was not going to make it easy for them to get close. And that was probably the plan, right? Ophelia had the orb, so she just had to get close enough to Anankos and she could- 

As he engaged with one of the green monsters, Laslow searched Ophelia all over, looking for the orb. It was rather large and round. If she had a pack on her, it surely would have bulged out. It wouldn’t fit into a pocket. But the longer he looked and watched her soar above the monsters, the less he was convinced she had it. She wasn’t wearing a bag of holding, or any bags at all for that matter. Her hands were empty and her outfit was very form fitting. Almost too form fitting. There was a lot of exposed skin, hardly any fabric in it at all really. Laslow shook away the creeping fatherly concerns and focused more on the very obvious concern: Ophelia certainly didn’t have the orb at all. 

Elise and Niles, who were just as overrun with monsters as he was, were both carrying packs with large orb-like protrusions in them. Did one of _them_ have the orb? It wasn’t as if they could use it. Ophelia was the only one attuned to it. 

Through all this reasoning and the muscle memory fighting, Laslow’s head was starting to hurt. And his daughter was soaring over the battle, getting closer and closer to the scaled black mass in the back of the cavern. Orbless. 

Laslow was a close range fighter. Battling with his sword was what he had trained his whole life in doing. He was okay with a bow and arrow, though nowhere near as good at Niles and therefore saw no reason to carry them around. His only means of reaching far across a battlefield to aid someone was his magic. And the magic was new. Odin had taught him a little, trained him to use some spells that were suited to his battle style. Nothing fancy or too strong. But he did have magic. He could help her, even from far away. 

He thought about magic as he watched Anankos unfurl. Its huge, black, body, uncoiled and twisted to face Ophelia who had finally reached her target. She landed on the ground and her dragon wings vanished. She looked up into the black dragon’s eyeless face and shouted, “TASTE THE ACHE IN MY BLOOD, VILE BEAST!” 

Laslow’s whole world came to a stop as the dragon’s maw unhinged. Black acid dripped between its large fangs as it slowly fell towards Ophelia. Her arms were outstretched. Her head was thrown back. She looked triumphant and bright. Just like Odin. And Laslow wasn’t quite sure what happened but one moment he was thirty feet away, watching the scene from his nightmares play out once again, and the next he was standing beside her, lifting his shield above their heads just before a rather large glob of acid fell into her space. 

“Dad!” Ophelia shouted in surprise as he wrapped his body over her defensively. “What are you-” 

Laslow’s vision went dark. Pink flesh covered in black saliva surrounded them. They were inside Anankos’ mouth. Laslow’s shield was crackling against the acid. They would both be disintegrated and eaten. He had done nothing to protect her. Even teleportation, magic he didn’t know he had, had not helped. Ophelia would die. Just like her father. Just like Laslow was about to. A whole family, destroyed by a single beast. 

At first Laslow panicked. He thought the water dripping onto Ophelia’s face below him was acid. But he quickly realized it was his own tears. He gripped her shoulders and sobbed, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were little. I’m sorry that we just met. I didn’t know you existed until a little while ago but… I think I’ve waited my whole life to be your father. And I failed you. You should have stayed in the Deep Realm, where it was safe.” 

Slowly, Ophelia lifted a hand and pushed away a tear from his cheek. She smiled and said in a calm, level voice, “Dad, were you paying attention to my plans at all? I am exactly where I need to be.” 

Laslow blinked away a few more tears just in time to see the orb appear in Ophelia’s hand. It had been there all along, nestled in her loosely clenched fingers, hidden by a spell. And Anankos had let her close, not seeing anything suspicious on her person while Niles and Elise, both weighed down with items, fought off his hoards of golems. 

“Dad, answer this riddle,” Ophelia said levelly, a sly grin on her face. “You have an object that can slay an evil dragon. But to use it, the one attuned to the object must be ‘within range’. You only have one, maybe two real shots at using this powerful object and despite all your research you never quite figured out what the ‘range’ was. Where would you say is the most ‘in range’ you could possibly get to the dragon to try?” 

“Touching it?” Laslow said, finally putting the pieces together belatedly in his mind. 

“How about _inside_ of it?” 

Ophelia didn’t wait for his response. She ducked out from under his shield and thrust the orb up against the roof of Anankos’ mouth. 

It happened so fast. They were inside the dragon, and then they weren’t. Starting from his mouth, Anankos twisted and spiraled and shrank into the orb. He was gone in the blink of an eye with a satisfying pop. 

The wave of normalcy spread from the orb like a large ripple in a crytal lake. It started with the faceless, who disappeared without warning or grace from under Elise’s axe and Niles’ arrows. It spread beyond the cave, escorting the globalized swamp out the same way it had come in. Quickly, without hesitation. The sun was bright, the land was dry, the air was clean, and all across the world people rejoiced at their mysterious rescue. 

The resounding exhilaration would be a reward for the heroes when they left the cave. For now, however, they stood in the empty lair of the former dragon known as Anankos, collecting their bearings. Ophelia and Laslow, in particular, were smoldering from the acid that almost bit through their clothes. 

Ophelia stood up to her full height and held the orb out in front of her. It caught in the few rays of sunlight that broke through now visible cracks in the cave, showing off the swirling blackness within. Ophelia snarled at it. “Anankos the Black! You have committed a fair number of crimes against humanity. You stripped our land of its livelihood and forced us to live in exile from one another. We may never know the extent of your third, terrible plan for us, and we, the people of the material plane, are all the better for it. Millions have died. Including the brave Odin Dark, my father, who was the last before me to stand up to you. I am proud to carry on his mantle and once and for all, bring an end to your terror. I sentence you to eternal death! Good riddance, monster!” 

Then, without further ado, Ophelia crouched over the orb and plunged a dagger into it. The surface of the glass cracked and splintered for a moment before shattering all at once. There was an unceremonious puff of black smoke, and that was the end of Anankos the black dragon. 

As the glass crumbled in Ophelia’s hand, Laslow crumbled over her. He draped his long arms around her and sobbed into her long, soft curls. He sobbed boisterously and unceasingly without shame. All of his muscles felt weak and he let gravity pull him around her. He started to mumble about loving her, cherishing her and protecting her forever. She patted his head patiently and held him in return. 

Laslow had not been there for Ophelia’s birth and upbringing. She reminded him of Odin, but also of himself. She was a burst of sunlight in his darkness, and he swore then and there, with the shards of defeated evil surrounding his feet, that he would never let the sunlight leave him again. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

The airport was deafeningly quiet. Inigo shifted on his feet, listening to the subtle ticking on his watch. The voices of other people bled into the background. He stared directly ahead at the terminal gate, seconds ticking by at a snail's pace. 

Finally, a stream of people started to filter out. He was the third one, a beacon of gold against all of the tired, jetlagged faces of his fellow passengers. They locked eyes immediately and then Inigo was running, the wind knocked out of him by his own thudding heart. 

It felt good to wrap his arms around Owain and be held in return. He felt sure of his place in the world again for the first time in six weeks. This summer vacation had felt longer than usual, not just because it was actually longer than usual, but because they hadn’t had a proper goodbye. Inigo was determined to more than make up for it with a proper ‘welcome home’. 

He kicked it off by grabbing Owain’s face and smashing their lips together. There was a shout of surprise, a grumble, a shift in position, and then they melted into a very long, very _public_ kiss. Neither Owain nor Inigo gave a rip, though. They kissed with abandon and hunger. 

The kiss was finally ended the way a disturbing amount of their kisses ended, with a mother’s intervention. “Okay, boys, you’ll have plenty of time for that at home. Alone. In your rooms. Not get to the baggage terminal,” Lissa instructed firmly as soon as she also emerged from the gate. 

Owain pulled away and his lips were pink and swollen as he mumbled, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you more,” Inigo responded, nuzzling his chin a little before they had to trade their hug for hand holding while they walked down the hallway. Long bouts of separation had long since murdered their shame of public displays of affection. That suited Inigo just fine. He was, quite frankly, sick of being apart. 

“Sooo, DnD last night,” Inigo said as they followed after Owain’s family through the airport. 

Owain let out a boisterous but short laugh. “It was fantastic! A final boss battle with an ancient dragon! Leo outdid himself!” 

Inigo grinned. “You say that, but you only had to do the end. You didn’t have to deal with a world made _entirely_ out of swamp terrain. You have no idea what we went through. It was awful.” 

“Leo’s campaigns feel very real, don’t they?” Owain chuckled. “I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us next! Ophelia is ready! She has been locked away for so long. Her blood aches with the desire for a real challenge!” 

Inigo coughed a little bit into his fist. “Speaking of,” he said with a sly grin. “I couldn’t help but notice that the name you chose for your new character was the same one we had picked out for our future daughter? The one we chose in high school, before we were even dating.” 

Owain continued to smiled, unashamed. “You remembered!” 

“Of course I did. I love that name.” Inigo sighed dramatically. “It’s a shame that we can’t use it anymore. We’ll have to come up with a new one since you went and squandered it in freaking _Dungeons and Dragons_. Now I’ll never be able to take it seriously. Guess I’ll have to pick a new one.” 

Owain looked appalled. He stopped walking and faced Inigo in the hallway. His family grew farther and farther away from them, but he didn’t seem to care. This was _far_ more important. “Wait! You’re not the names guy, I’m the names guy!” 

Inigo scoffed. “You gave up your real life naming privileges when you stole our fake high school daughter’s name for a fantasy roleplaying game character. Besides,” he dropped Owain’s hand so that he could cross his arms. “I’ve always thought Soleil would be a great name for our child.” 

Soleil, like Owain’s radiance, his bright smile, the sunshine he brought into Inigo’s life. The product of their relationship would have to reflect that brightness. 

Owain pushed out his lip in concentration. “I do like that name,” he admitted. “But what if we decide to have two children?” 

Inigo didn’t actually have any backups if that were the case. Soleil always had been his backup. And loathe though he was to admit it in the middle of this fake argument, he was rather heart-set on Ophelia. He shrugged nonchalantly in a failed effort to save face as he admitted, “Okay we can do Soleil first and we’ll keep Ophelia on the back burner for the second one. But if that becomes the case, you have to _promise_ me you’ll never talk to her about DnD. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew my daughter thought she was named after a tabletop rpg character.” 

Owain laughed, heartily. “No promises,” he said. “I know first hand how hard it is to quench the ache in a young warrior’s blood. She’s going to want to hear her origin story some day.” 

They caught up with Owain’s family quickly, what with Inigo chasing his dumb boyfriend down the hall in mock anger, both of them laughing and yelling the whole way. 

\--- 

As soon as the boys were home, they squirreled themselves away to Owain’s room. There would be plenty of time for the beach and games later. They had six weeks of pent up lust to resolve before their brains and hearts could function in any other capacity. 

It was the middle of the night and Inigo was just starting to doze off against Owain’s bare chest when he felt something cold and metal press into his hand. His eyes fluttered open and he lifted his hand to process what had been placed there. A small, silver key. He blinked up at Owain quizzically. 

“It was my birthday present from my uncle,” Owain said quietly. “I’m not going back to the dorms at Krakenburg. I have my own apartment now that I can live in long after I graduate while I focus on my masters afterward. It’s in Leo’s building, too. Easy access after DnD nights.” He paused and Inigo waited patiently while he licked his lips nervously. “Do you want to move in with me?” he finally said. 

Inigo broke out into the biggest smile. Of course he did. But he had to at least pretend to think about it a _little_ before he just jumped right into a yes. “Close to DnD but that means further away from classes. What exactly do you think my priorities are?” 

Owain chuckled. “We are going to be seniors, Inigo. You are not going to care about classes after the first week. We both know it.” Inigo laughed too. It was true. And he was giddy on an emotional high. And _maybe_ DnD had already become a higher priority in his life than he wanted to admit. 

Inigo thought of all those years he spent on the other end of the country, longing for Owain. He thought about how close he had gotten so many times in the last semester to feeling like physical proximity wouldn’t solve all of his problems either. And in retrospect, it hadn’t. The emotional proximity, growing together in a hobby and working through the things that threatened to break them apart. _That_ was what had brought him closer to Owain. They didn’t need to be side by side every waking moment. As long as they supported each other and loved each other, Inigo knew they would be okay. 

However, officially sharing an apartment for the foreseeable future? It didn’t sound too bad. 

“Sounds like a good deal,” he said. Then they both wordlessly slipped into their dreams. Dreams of flowers and magic and dragons. Dreams where they were heroes together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never played a fighter before but I was reading the players handbook and noticed that Eldritch Knights can teleport short distances (they learn it at the same level dragon-blood sorcerers get their wings, i thought that was a neat little detail!) and I thought that was really cool and imagined Laslow just using magic without even realizing it. I don't know if I ever mentioned what sub-class he was, and I know he's NEVER used magic before, so maybe that was a little bit of retcon... but anyway. That was my reasoning for that scene.


	7. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laslow must tap into a long unused skill to save a friend. Inigo realizes his happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW OKAY I'M SO SORRY, HERE IT IS, THE LAST CHAPTER. A little bit of an extra, kind of an epilogue thing. The way the ship week was originally supposed to go, this would have been separate from the first week and been posted on Inigo's birthday. Obviously it WASN'T because that was in AUGUST. But here it is. I don't really have an excuse, other than I moved and it was hard for a little while to find the inspiration I needed to finish this. But I never intended on abandoning it. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for your support. I got some really lovely comments throughout the making of this fic and I'm so so so glad that so many people enjoyed it. I hope you look forward to future fics from me, and I promise not to have such long gaps between chapters. I'm usually more prepared than this lol. Anyway, thank you, again, for sticking with me. Enjoy.

Laslow woke up to someone shouting “LET ME GO” and the burnt smell of lightning crackling through the air. He was sitting up as soon as he was able. There were intruders in their camp and they were surrounding one of his party members. The first thing he noticed was a struggle against blonde hair. He was on his feet in an instant, thinking it might be Ophelia who was being accosted. But no, she was the one firing lightning into the gang of bandits, trying to free their actual target: Princess Elise.

Niles and Laslow were right behind Ophelia, fighting to get close to Elise as soon as they could, but it was to no avail. There were so many bandits. Laslow hadn’t seen this many _people_ in one group since the world was returned from its swampified state, let alone this many organized people. 

Elise was thrown unceremoniously into the back of a cart that closed and locked behind her. She must not have had access to her magic, because she was kicking and biting and acting far more ferocious than Laslow had ever seen her. She was normally so elegant with her divine magic. Even though they all called her Princess, he had never quite thought of how dignified she was really was until he saw her being so barbaric. 

Just before the cart sped away into the horizon, leaving her friends in the dust still fighting to get her, Elise shouted out of a little caged window, “THEY’RE TAKING ME TO NOHR! FIND ME PLEASE, DON’T LET THEM MAKE ME STAY!” And then she was gone. 

It was frustrating how determined the ‘bandits’ were at keeping the remaining heroes detained while they ran off with Elise. They were up against some ferocious fighters who, in the end, just blinked out of the plane when they were done and Elise was long gone. 

“Where’s Nohr?” Laslow said between pants at his two remaining companions. 

Niles pointed in the direction Elise had gone. “We can track them.” 

Ophelia had already summoned her dragon wings and was floating above the trees. “Quickly!” she said, and off they went. 

It wasn’t a long journey. But then, no distance felt quite so long anymore after being forced to travel through noxious, damp swamps every where they went. Traveling through dry, fresh forests was a breeze now, even if they didn’t have paved roads. They arrived at the ruins of what they assumed to be the country of Nohr after only a day. Of course, everything was in ruins in this still healing, post-apocalyptic world. At least these ruins seemed to be teeming with people trying to rebuild their civilization. 

The three adventurers found a hiding place just outside of the city where they watched. There were so many people here, more than they had seen in one setting since the disease that fed on interaction had swept the land. The plague was long gone, but many were still scarred by it. Yet this populace was booming with teams of people helping each other to erect buildings and paved roads. People ran to and fro, busy and excited. And yet the adventurers were still hesitant. They had watched their friend get unwillingly dragged here after all. 

Ophelia spread her wings and started to lift off. “I’m going to get Princess Elise,” she said. 

Laslow grabbed her cape and dragged her back down before she could get too far off the ground and blow their cover. “Absolutely not. We might be arrested if we just storm in there. We have no idea what to expect. We at least need some information before we go charging in there. Maybe we should try to find out _why_ the princess was kidnapped.” He held firm to her cape as he turned to the ranger next to him and said, “Niles?” 

Niles was stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Information,” he repeated. “You’re not wrong. Despite their numbers, though, they would probably recognize a stranger as such and start asking questions. I can sneak around and eavesdrop on some people, but I’ll be better off on my own.” 

Laslow nodded. “That’s fine. Ophelia and I will hunker down until you get back.” 

Ophelia huffed. “I don’t want to just sit around while they do… Who knows what to my friend!” 

“I understand, but we don’t have a choice.” Laslow was getting better at using his ‘father’ voice. Not that he needed to be especially good at it for it to be effective. Ophelia was nothing if not respectful, and she always listened to him. 

This was no exception. Her wings vanished and she crossed her arms to pout, but she obeyed. 

“I’ll be back before nightfall,” Niles said, and then he was gone into the shadows. 

\--- 

As soon as Niles was gone, Ophelia parked herself by a tree and put on the most impressively stubborn pouting display Laslow had ever seen. He wanted to talk some spirit back into her, but he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. He and Ophelia had developed a really great working relationship and they were always on each other’s side. This might have been the first disagreement they’d had, now that he thought about it, and he wasn’t quite sure how much parenting he was allowed to do. For one, Ophelia was an adult all her own and allowed to act how she wanted. Additionally, Laslow didn’t really know _how_ to be a dad. He knew how to spoil her, get in her good graces, and make her laugh, but he didn’t have any practice for when things went sour. 

Laslow sighed in defeat and sat cross legged a couple of feet away from her. He picked up a stick, extracted a small knife from his bag, and got to work carving something aimlessly while he brooded. 

There were so many years of Ophelia’s childhood that Laslow had missed and would never get back. There were things he would have liked to teach her, things he would have liked to learn about her. Now, they had a good relationship, built on a mutual curiosity of each other and desire to be a family despite having just met. But they sometimes didn’t know how to act around each other. Especially when they were alone. Was he supposed to be parenting her now, to make up for the time they lost? Was he allowed to be an authoritative figure in her life? Or was he supposed to be her friend? Could he be both at once or was that breaking some parental taboo? 

After almost entire half hour of awkwardness, Laslow brought his stick creation up to his lips for a test blow. It made a high pitched squeak and he flinched. He hadn’t thought through the ramifications of introducing noise into their established silence. He braced himself for the inevitable disapproval from Ophelia. 

She was standing behind him so he couldn’t see her react, but a moment later she was sinking into the grass by his side. He tried to reign in a jolt of surprise as she leaned over him to peer at the stick he was working on. 

“What is that?” she asked, eyes full of wonder. She was acting like nothing had happened. Truly, maybe nothing had. Except the thirty minutes of awkward silence he had just broken. 

“It’s a whistle,” he responded nevertheless, offering the little device up to her. “We used to make these all the time when I was a kid.” 

Ophelia’s green eyes sparkled as she turned the whistle over in her hands, playing with the piston and peering into the tiny holes. “In your forest tribe you made them? For fun?” 

Laslow blushed. “Uh, yes. When we were bored. There were a lot of sticks laying around in my village so they were easy to make. Sometimes we’d carve out a dozen whistles and flutes and then play them while the adults danced for us.” 

“Whoa,” Ophelia said, awestruck. “Can you teach me? I, uh… I know almost everything there is to know about my dragon bloodline and sorcerer powers but… I don’t know much about my wood elf heritage at all.” 

Laslow felt his heart swell at her request. All at once he realized; she missed those years they never got as much as he did. 

It took them several hours to make the perfect whistle. As time passed, father and daughter almost entirely forgot why they were there and what they were waiting for. Ophelia blew into her fifth whistle and it made a very lovely songbird tune. Laslow closed his eyes as he listened to her play a simple melody with the sliding piston inside of it. When she was done she beamed up at him and said, “If I play a song, will you dance to it like they did in your village?” 

A cold sweat fell over Laslow. She wanted him to dance. He tried to cover the anxiety that began to creep through him and stuttered, “W-well, I guess I-” 

Laslow was rescued from his embarrassment when Niles burst through the hedgeline a moment later, bringing them both back to reality. “I have several bits of news. Some good, some bad, some very interesting.” 

Ophelia was already running up to Niles, game face returned to her. “Where is Princess Elise? Is she safe?” 

“She’s safe,” he responded. “More than safe, actually. I think this might be her home.” He looked at Laslow. “When she introduced herself to Odin and me years and years ago, she claimed the title of princess but we never quite found out what she was the princess of. Well, I think I finally put a rest to that mystery.” 

“So… This is her homeland? Is… is it doing well? Are her siblings...” Laslow trailed off nervously. It was a fair question. Most of the world was not doing well after the apocalypse. And if Elise ever talked about anything from her past, it was her siblings. Four of them, all incredibly beloved by her. 

“They’re all alive,” Niles said, and Laslow let his breath leave him in relief. “And the country is blossoming. Impressively actually. I got the impression that common understanding of why they dragged Elise back here was to help rebuild. But they’re actually doing pretty well for themselves. And she seems to be the youngest of the five royals, so I’m sure they don’t need her. Which brings me to my next bit of news: I know for certain that Elise, even though she loves her family, does not want to be kept here. I watched her argue with someone who I think was her brother and then get escorted back to her heavily guarded room.” 

Laslow frowned. “They’re probably relieved to find her alive after Anankos’ apocalypse,” he said. “They only want to keep her safe.” He glanced at Ophelia out of the corner of his eyes, but tried not to make a scene of it. 

“They may mean well,” Ophelia responded. “But the princess should be allowed freedom if that's what she desires! What can we do to rescue her?” 

Niles smirked. “That’s where things get interesting. This kingdom is doing so well with its rebuilding efforts that they are throwing a party tonight. Normally, I’d have no trouble sneaking into a large social gathering like this, but what with the world population being so small they seem to have a very detailed account of all the people that are attending. They would definitely recognize any strangers that weren’t on their list. Fortunately,” Niles paused to dig in his pockets and extract a pristine card with a broken wax seal on the back. “I intercepted this.” 

“Is it an invitation to the party?” Ophelia asked. 

“Indeed. A return correspondence with the box marked ’we regretfully decline’. The hosts never received it. We could pretend to be these people, show up and act like our rsvp got lost in the mail. It’s from the Duchess of Cyrkensia. Fortunately, I happen to know that she came into fame and power very recently. Like, just before the swamp. Her face didn’t have time to spread very far before everything fell apart. If impersonation is our only way to get close to Princess Elise, this is the easiest one to attempt.” 

“This is all extremely lucky,” Laslow said with a grin. 

“Almost,” Niles said. “The only thing that could blow our cover is the nature of Cyrkensia. They’re very well known for their musical talent, of which we have none. I’m tone deaf and have two left feet, little dragon lady here has been locked in another plane her whole life and you-” 

Laslow cleared his throat. His face was on fire from blushing. “I-I actually… I know how to dance.” 

Niles chuckled. “How well though? These people would be extraordinary performers. They do it day in and day out for a living. No offense, but you’re a clunky fighter. Not the typical suspect for elegance.” 

“I wasn’t always a fighter,” Laslow said with a frown. “For your information, I’m a very good dancer. I just don’t do it much anymore.” He looked at Ophelia and swallowed the lump in his throat. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of his daughter attempting a skill he hadn’t tried in years. But, of course, she was smiling at him. She was a bundle of pride and excitement. “But if it's for Princess Elise… I’ll give it my best.” 

Niles clicked his tongue. “Well okay. But if this goes south, I’m blaming you.” 

\--- 

“The Lady is a touch ill,” Niles explained to the bored guard. “So you’ll have to excuse her muteness.” 

The guard raised his eyebrow at Ophelia, who stood nestled between Laslow and Niles. She was practically vibrating. The struggle to keep her mouth shut and her words concealed was clearly a deep one. 

The Duchess of Cyrkensia was a very talented and famous songstress. Niles, out of fear that she might be expected to sing, obliged Ophelia to pretend as though she had a throat sickness. And it was torturing the poor dramatic wordsmith. 

“We did not receive an RSVP from Cyrkensia,” the guard said in a monotone voice. 

“My apologies for the misunderstanding,” Niles said curtly. “It was sent, along with a notice of the Lady’s condition. It must have been lost in the mail.” 

The guard sighed and glanced at the three travelers one more time. Laslow, Ophelia and Niles did not have anything particularly fancy to wear to the party. But then, neither did any of the actual guests. There were maybe fifty people that showed up, and even though they were all once powerful people, they now ruled over remnants of civilization. Where royal parties of the past may have been thrown to celebrate wealth, this one was to celebrate life and unity in a broken world. Sensible traveling attire was the norm, which suited Elise’s rescue party just fine. 

The guard must have finally conceded because he bowed his head and said, “Apologies for the trouble. Enjoy the party.” 

Once upon a time, perhaps the castle here had been grand and the ballroom would have been massive, including several open sitting rooms for the guests to enjoy themselves in. That was not the case anymore, of course. Half of the castle was in ruins. They were rebuilding much of it and signs of construction and repair were everywhere. But they had managed to salvage a large entrance hall, which was now decorated as well as it could be to look normal. 

Several dozen people crowded into it, enjoying a small array of well cooked foods and a small band playing music. Nothing was lavish or overdone as it perhaps would have been before the destruction of the world, but in the current circumstances it looked luxurious. It was the most normal thing any of the travelers had seen in months and they, along with the actual wealthy people in attendance, brandished their awe openly. 

They were left a while to admire and socialize before their hosts finally arrived. The only way Laslow knew that they were Elise’s siblings, was because she was among them. Otherwise, the five of them could not look more unrelated. They weren’t even the same race. A tiefling, a half-elf, a dragonborn, and Elise the halfling all walked into the room together. They were all well dressed and wore varying levels of anticipation in their expressions. There was a beat between them and who Laslow assumed was the oldest brother, a human, who joined them. He was tall, broad shouldered and stoic faced. Laslow instantly grew nervous in his presence. 

Elise recognized her friends right away. It was clear on her face. She saw them, lit up, then from a facial cue from Niles averted her attention inconspicuously elsewhere. 

“Welcome guests,” Elise’s human brother started, and the room quieted for him. He voice was strong and bold without being purposefully loud. He exuded control and power simply in the way he held himself. “I will keep it brief. Welcome to Nohr, I am King Xander. My siblings and I are glad you could all make it. Tonight, we’ll celebrate prosperity, civilization, and life. We will remember those that were lost and push toward a peaceful future. We need to put plans and treaties in place to ensure that no more life is lost unnecessarily. But first and foremost, we are here to celebrate. And so that is what we shall do. So from my family to you, eat, drink, laugh, and enjoy.” 

With a curt nod, the king was done and the party began. Introductions and small talk rippled through the room, with Niles keeping theirs brief to whoever approached the mute Ophelia. Laslow kept his eyes open, scanning the crowd and making notes of exits or private spots. They needed to get Elise alone, but there weren’t a lot of options. 

Laslow’s gaze eventually found a guard, the one who had let them into the party, speaking something into King Xander’s ear. They were too far to hear over the conversational din, but the guard was pointing directly at him and the King was nodding with a stern look. Laslow felt dread spread through his veins. They had been discovered. He turned to inform Niles and almost ran right over the tiny Princess Elise. 

“Hi, I’m Princess Elise!” she said loudly, holding out a hand. When he reached to shake it, she pulled him down and hissed, “Who are you?” 

“Uh, a retainer for the Duchess of Cyrkensia?” he said obtusely. 

“Fantastic! My brother thinks the embesarries from Crykensia are performing so, I hope you prepared something!” She smiled and he legitimately couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or scathingly sarcastic. It wasn’t in her nature to be the later, but he was very suddenly just self conscious enough to suspect it. 

He smiled despite himself. “Just say when, Your Highness.” 

The ‘when’ came a lot sooner than he was ready. Elise was the one to introduce him, after asking her brother if she could. She gently dinged a piece of silverware on a glass and in her tiny voice that seemed to carry much further than she she should be allowed said, “Attention everyone. The country of Cyrkensia has come tonight with a little entertainment for the party. Unfortunately, the Duchess herself isn’t well, but there will still be a performance by one of her very talented retainers.” With that, Elise nodded toward Laslow then stepped out of the cleared space on the floor for him. 

Laslow sucked in a deep breathe and let it out slowly. Then he started to undress. Not completely, but he took off his top layer of clothing so that he was just in his flowy white undershirt, pants and boots. And his belt. It was a jangly golden piece that often got lost or forgotten in all of his adventuring gear, but that he always wore to remember his mother. She had been a fantastic dancer and was currently a large part of the reason he was nervous now. Even if no one in the room knew her for comparison, he felt in his heart a heavy obligation to make her proud. 

The other source of his nervousness was standing behind him, with wide emerald eyes, eager to finally witness her father’s hidden trade. He had to make her proud as well. 

The music was provided by a small band that Nohr had assembled at the last minute. They started the song slowly, the song that Laslow had requested. It was a traditional forest ballad. As soon as it started, his nerves melted into nostalgia and muscle memory, and Laslow started to move. 

He was strong and intentional in his steps and his movements. His mind made way for his soul, which spilled into the captivated crowd. Laslow wasn’t here anymore, on this mangled planet. He was somewhere simpler, somewhere lovelier, where family and serenity were in abundance. And he didn’t want to go back. He lost track of everyone in the room, except Ophelia. She was blood, and he kept a mental marker on her at all times. When he could, he opened his eyes to watch her, see the look of pure enrapture on her face. 

His steps didn’t falter, his tempo never wavered. He put on a show for his family, those here in the material plane and those in the astral plane, all watching intently. The crowd was a consequence. He wasn't even thinking of the mission when it happened. 

Just as Laslow was finishing his last step and the music was fading, Ophelia started to glow. She went unnoticed to almost everyone, except Laslow, who was watching her very carefully. She glowed for a moment, and the next, they were in a forest far away from the party. 

Laslow jumped and fell over in shock. It happened too suddenly, without any warning. A belated wave of nausea ran over him. The music was gone, the smell of food was gone, the atmosphere of a party was gone. They were deep in some woods, Elise and Niles rising to their feet beside them. 

Finally, after a long moment of confused silence, Elise said, “Your dance, Laslow. It was magical…” 

Laslow swallowed. His mouth was dry. “Thank you, Princess, but now is not the time for compliments. I-” 

“No, I mean literally,” Elise said. “It was a spell. Did you not do that on purpose?” she looked at Ophelia. “You haven’t been able to perfect teleportation before have you? But with the dance…” 

Ophelia nodded, looking slightly nervous herself. “I felt it. The dance gave me the extra boost I needed. I’m sorry for startling everyone.” She looked at Laslow. “Father, thank you for that dance. It felt-” she hugged her bare arms around her chest and smiled. “It felt warm. It invoked memories that were not my own, of a family I never met. I felt like I belonged. Thank you.” 

Laslow stood up and rushed to her. He pulled her into an embrace and whispered into her hair, “I will teach it to you.” 

Ophelia nodded into his chest. “Thank you,” she said again, quieter. 

Soft sobbing pulled them apart. The whole party rushed to Elise as she started to break down into tears, crumpling into a small pile. Ophelia wrapped her in an embrace. “I’m sorry, Princess, so sorry, did I do something wrong? Do you want to go back? That was wrong of us to rip you from your family without warning, I-” 

“They’re alive!” Elise sobbed into her shoulder, loudly. “I’m so happy. They’re all okay! Thank the gods, they’re all okay!” Her nails dug into Ophelia’s shoulder as sobs trembled across her body. 

After a rough moment, the outburst calmed. She sniffled and wiped her tears and smiled up at her friends reassuringly. “Thank you,” she croaked. “Someday I will go back, but now is not the time. I love my family dearly, and I was so glad to see them, but… The whole time I was there I kept thinking about how much I wanted to be with you guys. To be traveling. There is still so much work to do, we _have_ to keep looking for people in need. I’ll be fine. They are my family, but you are my family too. Thank you for coming for me. Ophelia, Laslow, Niles. Thank you. You did the right thing.” 

Ophelia gestured to Laslow, who grabbed Niles and pulled them all together. Laslow smiled as he hugged his, he agreed with Elise, family. He had been alone when Odin waltzed into his life, demanding that he not be alone anymore. Because of that foundation Odin laid, he had Niles and Elise, and he would have them forever. And he had Ophelia, as much his biological family as she was his found family. 

Now, holding the three of them close in the middle of nowhere for a stolen moment, Laslow knew that come whatever other disasters fate had planned for him, he would be fine as long as his family was beside him. 

»»-------------¤-------------«« 

It was crisp outside. Autumn was almost over and winter was creeping its way across the nation. It would be upon their campus soon. However, it was still cold enough that Inigo and Owain had to pull out their big coats, especially if they were going to be out in the dark. In Inigo’s opinion, it was too early for these temperatures. It wasn’t even snowing yet, so what was the point? His breathe hung in the air as he scoffed at it. 

The campus was quiet and empty as they walked to their car. The session had gone late, long after Leo’s tutoring hours were over. No one had shown up of course, for tutoring. They had sat in the private library room playing Dungeons and Dragons for hours. And now, for the first time this semester, Owain and Inigo had to drive home. 

It wasn’t just the campus that was quiet, of course. It was Owain too. Inigo snuck a look at him and found him staring pensively into the distance. Something was on his mind, and it was unlike Owain to hold his thoughts in for long. 

Inigo grabbed his hand, and he was triumphant in pulling Owain out of his own little world. He looked startled for a moment so Inigo smiled and said, “You okay?” 

“Yes, fine,” Owain said, smiling back. “Just thinking about something.” 

“Care to share?” Inigo asked as gently as he could. 

Owain hummed. His gaze drifted away again and they continued to walk along the sidewalk with their gloved hands clasped together between them, swinging gently. Finally, he said, “When we built Laslow, did you… Make him an entertainer because you miss dancing?” 

Inigo’s smile faltered. Of all the things he was thinking Owain could be hung up over, he wasn’t prepared for this. His instinct was to derail. “That would be ridiculous,” he said with a fake chuckle thrown in. 

“I don’t think so,” Owain said. “You didn’t really open up about it when you changed your major, and it stuck out to me when you built Laslow. But I didn’t ask. I should have. You still want to dance, don’t you?” 

Inigo deflated a little. “I couldn’t have made a career out of it, you know that. I have our future daughters to think of.” 

Owain stopped walking and pulled Inigo in front of him so that they could look at each other properly. His gaze bore into Inigo’s, as serious as it had ever been. “This isn’t a joke, Inigo. I’m glad that you transferred here and I’m grateful that I get to see you everyday. But if you’re not following your dreams, what was the point of our promise when we graduated high school?” 

Anger flared through Inigo’s veins. He wasn’t expecting this. It felt confrontational and unlike any argument they’d had before. “What do you want me to do, Owain? Transfer again? We’re graduating this year. I can’t change my major now.” 

“Why not?” 

Inigo sputtered. This was ridiculous. “My family doesn’t have the resources to support extra years of school! I made my bed when I switched my major the first time, and now I have to lay in it. Regrets will do nothing for anybody.” 

Owain sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry…” There was a beat where regret was shared between them. And then Owain was smiling again, soft yet sly. “But maybe there’s another way. Join a dancing troupe? Get a scholarship? Go to grad school?” 

The suggestions made Inigo flinch. He had already considered most of them, one time or another. But he had been set on giving up on dance, so they never matured past the whimsical day dreams they were. Having someone else, someone whose opinion he valued, proclaim them as good ideas, made his heart hurt in an unfamiliar way. 

“Have you looked into any of the options yet? We can skip a few games this week and start doing research. We can find _something_ to get you dancing again!” 

There was a magic in Owain’s words that was always there, even if Inigo didn’t always acknowledge it. He could say things you had been thinking and make them real. It was a beautiful gift he had. And the more he talked about dancing, the more Inigo’s heart started to race despite himself. He looked up, slowly, and met Owain’s eyes again. Hope was dawning in his own. “Would… that be okay?” he asked meekly. “I wouldn’t be able to play DnD as much…” 

Owain’s grin grew. “Neither would I. You’re not going into anything alone, Inigo. I’ll be beside you every step of the way. Supporting you.” He paused, but only briefly to pull their forehead together. Inigo’s eyes shut as he let Owain’s whispered promises wash over him. “Your happiness is far more valuable to me than a game. And our future daughters would rather have a father with a purpose than a father with a ton of money, trust me. I’m going to raise them well like that.” 

Inigo felt his eyes prickle with emotion. What had he done to deserve a guy like Owain? What had he done to deserve to share forever with someone so supportive and forgiving and compassionate? Inigo clung to his boyfriend and realized, rather vaguely, where they had stopped walking. They were right in the center of the little bridge that was said to bless any engagements made on it. Inigo’s heart swelled, and he knew it was a sign. 

In Dungeons and Dragons, Odin and Laslow had been married and had a kid already. Inigo was glad real life wasn’t moving as quickly as it was in the game (he was certainly grateful that his Owain hadn’t and wouldn’t befall the same fate as Laslow’s Odin), but it didn’t have to SO slow. It could catch up a little. Real life Inigo could give fantasy Laslow a run for his happily ever after. 

Inigo swallowed and pulled his face away from Owain. He grabbed both of Owain’s hands and said, “Things are going to be scary after we graduate if I do this. And I can’t do it alone this time. So when we graduate in the spring… Can we get married? Like, right away. In real life.” 

Owain didn’t even stall for a second. He just smiled, wrapped his arms around Inigo’s body to pull them flush against each other and said, “Of course. Do you want to dance now?” 

And they did. They danced on the bridge, slow and quietly, even as snow began to fall around them.


End file.
